Strategic Intuition
by Ahn-Li Steffraini
Summary: When a US Navy ship is in port in the UK, a lieutenant is murdered under very suspicious circumstances.  NCIS and Torchwood must work together... how it crosses into DW territory will come to light eventually.  Non-slash  unless it's canon.
1. Prolog

**Strategic Intuition**

NCIS/DW/Torchwood Crossover

by Ahn-Li Steffraini

_Based directly on ErinM's fan fiction ",There's Something About Ginger"... with permission._

**Summary**: When a US Navy ship is in port in the UK, a lieutenant is murdered under very suspicious circumstances. NCIS and Torchwood must work together... how it crosses into DW territory will come to light eventually.

**Author's Note**: As stated, this is based off of ErinM's story, with her permission. It does involve all shows, with NCIS and Torchwood being blatantly obvious. Where DW comes into play will be hinted at... strongly. As in with a cricket bat to the head hinted at... search for that story, it's excellent, although I have included it as the prolog for those who want the easier way to find it... but I have retouched it a bit to fit.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any rights to any of the shows. Heck, even the plot bunny is based off of somebody else's idea. I'm not making any profit and likely, if money is crossing hands its from my pocket to theirs with all the DVD's I seem to be buying lately... _Even the first part of the prolog is ErinM's..._

_

* * *

_**PROLOG**

_Originally by ErinM  
... makes for a good introduction as any..._

Gibbs stepped out of the elevator to see Tony picking on McGee. "-like a puppy," Tony huffed. Kate threw a wad of paper at Tony and gave McGee a smile as Gibbs moved into the hole. Tony bolted for his desk and picked up a file, trying to look like he'd been working all along.

Gibbs sat down at his desk and tried not to smile as Kate and Tony began making faces at each other and Gibbs knew that, no matter what, he'd never be alone.

Whether he liked it or not.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a simple man. Everyone made him out to be rather complex, but he was as plain as a man could get. He liked you or he didn't; he trusted you or he didn't.

There was no deeper meaning to his thoughts or opinions. He saw things as black or white, up or down, right or wrong. Granted, he did – occasionally – slip into a grey area, but it was only when absolutely necessary.

His whole life, he'd done what felt right. And he didn't care what anyone else thought. Only he was to blame for his mistakes – that's what made them his. The world's problems weren't his and he couldn't fix everything. Regardless, he had a habit of blaming himself. It didn't happen often, but it did happen.

He didn't like being told what to do, even if it was part of his way of life. If you were given an order, you followed it. Whether you believed it was the right order or not. He'd ignored orders before, and when he did - greater good or not - he'd had to suffer the consequences.

It had been his choice to stop fighting. They warned him that it was the wrong decision, and he knew what was to come, but he still left. He'd lost friends and family and he was tired. The band was playing and he wanted it to stop.

So he forced twelve, took Jack's vortex manipulator and the Chameleon Arch and didn't care when or where he ended up.

The problem was that he wasn't supposed to remember. Sure, he'd forgotten the major details, but there were still little things...

An obsession with red hair; the front door he never locked, even though he was the only one with a key; an aversion to technology; the mystery of the basement being bigger than it should be; the raging storm always brewing just under the surface...

The fact that, where most people found an elevator uncomfortable, he found the space inviting and homey.

He'd always done what was right for everyone else. Now, he only cared about his team. His friends...

His family.

He would protect them and, with each catastrophe, he was one step closer. He never cared about his own well-being, and he knew that, with each injury, the next one just might be the one he didn't walk away from. But that didn't bother him.

The fact it didn't, however, _did_ bother him.

But not as much as the robotic voices of automated messages...

* * *

Years passed. They lost Kate, but gained Ziva in her place. Something still wriggled in the back of his mind at the change over, some forgotten pain that went beyond what he felt with Kate's loss. He made peace with the father he strangely didn't resemble at all. Rehashed the argument that landed them at each other's throats.

Maybe it was an off-handed comment in the general store when a local didn't realize he was there, behind a shelf, pricing things, "So, where do you two really come from?"

"Ah, up North," answered Jackson.

Funny how Gibbs couldn't really remember living anywhere else, not really... but then again, anything before high school and the marines was fuzzy anyway. He couldn't really say that he remembered what his mother looked like before she died. Just a woman in red, with dark hair swept elegantly back from her face with a burnt orange sky behind her... must have been dusk when that particular memory had burned into his mind.

That case was solved, and he went back to DC. Life went on.

And then the team was called across the Atlantic to the UK where a US Navy ship held the promise of a mystery.


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

It was a quiet day within the hub of Torchwood 3 in Cardiff. Then again, they had been for the months that each felt like a year. Jack Harkness was still in a mood, as his friends and colleagues liked to call it. So were they all as most of the Torchwood team had been directly affected by the unexpected disappearance of a very close friend.

Mickey Smith, once known disparagingly then with the affection between close friends, as Mickey the Idiot, was just as rocked to his very core at this. But he tried to get on with life. He nodded to Ianto Jones as he walked through the hub carrying the crate that Torchwood 5 in Toronto, Canada, had sent them with all haste and security. Ianto looked up as he walked through the tourist center, and waved him through.

With a small grin once he was well past the Welshman's sight, Mickey knew that was one relationship past all reconciling. It was a long story, that, one that Mickey found somewhat complicated and was also from before he was officially even a part of Jack's transformed Torchwood.

As the cog wheel opened, he shifted the precious cargo in his arms to adjust the weight. It wasn't heavy physically, but the emotional weight of what was inside would probably be enough to cause yet another brood by Jack... and them all.

It all started eleven months ago.

With a sigh he walked up the stairs to the boardroom, knocked on Jack's office door and once Jack poked his head around the corner, he said, "I think you best call a meeting and we all take a look at this."

Jack looked at him quizzically, but whistled to get Mickey's wife, Dr. Martha Jones, attention as well as Alonso and Gwen's attention. He then called up to Ianto, who only took moments to get back downstairs, even if he moved slowly thanks to the virus that had almost killed him over a year ago. As they all took their seats, with Gwen even telling Ianto to sit down instead of get coffee, Mickey opened the sealed crate.

"Torchwood Toronto sent us this, said it had something to do with our case. When I picked it up I didn't know what they meant... until I saw these," Mickey explained, and then he pulled out the two items within.

One was, now very dead and without power, Jack's Vortex Manipulator. The other was a piece of alien technology which had been obviously wired into the vortex manipulator to use it as power. Something Martha recognized and she felt her stomach drop clear into her boots. "Oh my God," she breathed. "He's still on Earth at least."

Jack breathed in then out, taking the dead device in his hands as if he was handling something else, or even someone else. "When did they find this?" he asked.

"In the eighties," answered Mickey. "I know one is your Vortex Manipulator, but what is this other?"

"It's called a Chameleon Arch," answered Martha softly. "Basically, what it does - and I don't understand how - is re-write biology and lock away the Time Lord from a Time Lord. It creates a fictional history, a life, one that is so real and so ingrained into the person that they... they cease to exist until the piece that holds the locked away and sleeping Time Lord opens and they remember, and the biology is changed back. He wouldn't do this to himself again... would he?"

"You remember what he said," said Jack quietly. "Even Time Lords have their limits, and he found his. He needed to forget it all before it drowned him. But this is at least a clue. The haystack is a whole lot smaller now, but it doesn't make finding the needle any easier knowing generally when and where he is."

Jack took the dead vortex manipulator, but Mickey stopped him. "Wait, maybe I can get it up and running enough to find what time exactly and where... maybe it can narrow it down, yeah?"

With a nod, Jack handed the vortex manipulator back over to Mickey. "Anything you can do is good enough for me, Mickey."

* * *

Eleven months were a long time to miss someone, especially when you knew that they may not be living the same eleven months. For a time traveler it meant years could whip by in the span it took to blink an eyelid.

This was a fact that was not lost on Amy Pond or Rory. While Rory found the Doctor to be somewhat of a loose nut, he couldn't dispute that the Doctor was a friend - and when that friend disappeared literally without a trace and left behind what almost defined him he couldn't help but worry. Rory was a nurse, and as such his medical training included some psychology. It was not a lot of psychology, but it was enough to see that the Doctor hid dark secrets and saw deep losses in his incredibly long life. It stood to reason that eventually the weight of it all would crush him, and it finally did. There was no doubt in his mind that his and Amy's presence had lifted that weight somewhat, but something... something had finally swept away all those guards.

Amy always looked outside to the garden to where the TARDIS sat. It had been moved there from Cardiff as Amy maintained that even the TARDIS needed company and sitting on some corner or in some vault would hasten its death. They were still allowed within, and sometimes Amy was sure that their voices talking to each other and to her held her to this world and kept her alive. Probably helped that she had an almost never ending stream of visitors. Sarah Jane Smith, Martha and Mickey, sometimes Jack himself, sometimes and old man and his daughter... sometimes others that she didn't recognize.

The TARDIS received them all graciously.

And his thoughts went back to eleven long months ago - although each month could have easily been a year.

* * *

_Eleven months ago_

The Doctor, Amy and Rory watched as River Song walked away. For a long moment the Doctor watched, even after Amy and Rory had turned back to the TARDIS. In surprise they watched as the Doctor seemed to slouch as if some heavy hand pushed down on him. Then he turned to them, and they saw the unguarded and deep sorrow in his eyes. "We'll see her again, right Doctor?" asked Amy.

With a haunted look, he looked up and then suddenly was back to normal - well, what passed for normal with him. "Right, of course," he said cheerfully as he led them back into the TARDIS. "Where shall we go next?"

Amy shook her head, but caught Rory's concerned glance. The Doctor didn't wait for an answer, but instead began piloting the TARDIS. As soon as it began it ended and he then ran to the doors and threw them open. "Ah, here we are. I think this must be... yes it is... it's Cardiff and in the year 2011. Early, mind you, so there's a bite in the air."

"Earth?" asked Rory, surprised. "And not long after we left it. Something wrong Doctor?"

"What? No! Not a thing, why would you say such a thing?" the Doctor answered in his usual manner, but Amy could see whatever haunted him had not faded quite yet.

"Hey, Doc! What brings you to Cardiff... oh... sorry, thought you were someone else... hey the Doctor in there still?" asked a voice that the Doctor stiffened in surprise at but neither Amy or Rory knew.

"Harkness," growled the Doctor. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Holy... it's you," answered the voice back. "Man, you get younger every time I see you. What's next? A teenage Doctor?"

Amy and Rory laughed at the ribbing but stopped at the Doctor's glance. "So what brings you to the Plass this time? Refuelling?"

Opening the doors fully this time, the Doctor nodded, and then introduced Jack to his two new companions. "Jack, this is Amy and Rory. Amy, Rory, this is Jack Harkness."

"Hi," Jack greeted, winking as he did so. "Wow, is your hair red... it's lovely though. Beautiful on you..."

Amy's eyes widened and Rory stepped in front. "Oh, you're a nice one too... wouldn't leave you out," Jack said, with yet another wink.

"_Harkness_..." came the Doctor's warning voice. "Enough of that. Leave them alone. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I came to help them celebrate their anniversary. Dinner it is! Coming, Jack?"

"Not even breathing hard," answered Jack. "Oh, you meant... right... never could refuse free food."

The night had gone well. The Doctor seemed more himself and took great pleasure in bringing Jack up to speed. Amy and Rory lost track as more wine flowed, but enjoyed themselves. Jack and the Doctor seemed to go drink for drink. And then the party moved to the TARDIS again. After it was done, even Jack said he had felt a warning touch from the TARDIS but they were all too far gone with drink to listen.

When they woke, Jack noticed something was very wrong first.

And when he figured it out he woke the others with the string of curses that turned their ears bright red, and then they heard the clear yell from Jack. "No, I don't mean you beautiful. I mean you're idiot pilot. For a Time Lord he can be so... so... stupid."

They came running into the console room where the recording of the Doctor had restarted.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way of all ways. By the time you get this, I'll likely not be this man anymore. In truth, I wish it could have gone another way." The holographic Doctor took a breath, as if to steady himself. "But I can't. Not after Rose and River, not after Patience and my family... or Jenny and Donna. Not after Gallifrey. I guess even a Time Lord has his limits - and I've reached mine. Jack, I have your vortex manipulator. I've set it to random. I don't know where or when it will throw me, and I can't bring myself to care. I also took the Chameleon Arch with me. If you see Martha, she'll be able to tell you what it does... or did to me as it will have already done." There was a long moment where the Doctor worried at the manipulator in his hands, then he looked back up. "And, Jack, I'll have changed before I use it too, so... don't look for me. I need the time to forget and move on. Grieve my own way before it all drowns me. Perhaps I'll see you all again. Maybe I already have. Hide the TARDIS." He took another breath, and the shaky quality was easily heard this time. "If you want to feel angry with me, I'll understand. I can't call this logical, it's just something I can't help but feel this is the right thing for me to do. Maybe a life normal and on the slow path is what this old and thick Time Lord needs to recharge his batteries. Until we meet again... if we do.. have brilliant... and safe... lives without me."

With that the recording ended and started again. Amy didn't bother to hide her tears. "Why, Doctor why?"

Jack was silent as he absorbed what was happening. And then he called Martha.

* * *

Jack Harkness only needed a marginal reason to brood over the Doctor's loss. Very few knew of him, and even those few didn't know of his disappearance. Those who did had made a pact that they would search for signs and keep each other updated. Only those in Torchwood 3 and certain select individuals in UNIT ever would know that the Doctor had left the TARDIS.

The rest of UNIT and the restructured Torchwood would always look for their Code Nine and never find him.

* * *

They were all young, although the youngest by far was still old enough to drink. It was a mixed group of both United States Navy and Royal Navy on a shore leave, and they were enjoying their night out even if they were still being mostly responsible.

They walked through the streets with the Royal Navy showing the US Navy officers around.

None saw the shadow that also seemed to follow them.

* * *

Across the world there was a UNIT member who did know. Although, he wasn't sure what he could do to help. He had been a friend of the Doctor's back in the day and knew in general what personality traits he would show, even if human. Not that he had ever seen them. He knew well that a man could, in the span of thirty or forty years end up literally anywhere, especially with the knowledge and skills inherent in the Doctor.

But Dr. Donald Mallard had not seen nor heard from anyone who could have passed as the Doctor and the months stretched along since he'd heard from Sir Alistair telling him about the sudden disappearance. Of course they were concerned. The TARDIS was still on Earth. The Doctor was no where to be found.

They were all going on the hopes that he still lived.

In an email, Ducky felt his brows lifting. It was the first piece of good news he'd had in eleven months. Traces had been found in Canada, albiet from the eighties. That meant he was on Earth, and in this time period. He could be found if they got particularly lucky.

Ducky looked up as the doors to the morgue whooshed open and Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked in, "What have you got, Ducky?"

With a sigh, Ducky deleted the email and went back to the case they were working on, leaving the email in the back of his mind.

Hours later, he found it in the forefront again when Gibbs and Director Vance came downstairs. "Hey Duck, gear up and get on the plane. Dead body in England," said Gibbs, then he pointed his thumb to Vance who finished.

"We have a mess here - some of ours and some of the Royal Navy. One of ours is dead, others are severely injured and the rest got off lucky in comparison," filled in Vance. "We're working with Torchwood on this, UNIT isn't gettting involved... although why is beyond me. Is this terrorism related?"

"I don't know until we get there and see for ourselves," answered Gibbs as Ducky gathered his things and followed them to the elevator.

"UNIT?" asked Ducky. "Now there's something I haven't heard from in years."

"Oh?" asked Vance.

"I used to work with them you know. Years ago. But I did." Ducky smiled at the memory. "Met some of the most interesting people. I learned one, a dear friend of mine, went missing eleven months ago. That's sad. He was such a brilliant if odd fellow."

"You think it's related?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh heavens no!" answered Ducky. "I certainly hope not. That would make this far, far worse than either of you know if it were."

With a small grumble, Ducky could have sworn he heard agreement from Gibbs.

* * *

**Semi-belated A/N**: In this, the story takes place after Children of Earth in Torchwood, after Spider and the Fly for NCIS, and a long, indeterminate, time after Big Bang/Pandorica Opens for Doctor Who.

However, I have taken some liberties.

I like Ianto... so guess who survived the 456 virus. It just made him deathly ill instead of killing him. I would have found a way for Owen and Tosh to survive, but I figured that was stretching it a bit too far. Torchwood 3 consists of Jack, Alonso (from the DW Voyage of the Damned special, although he had a very brief appearance in End of Time in the bar scene at the end of it), Martha, and Mickey on the main team that usually goes in the field. As Ianto is still recovering and Gwen is on light duty due to being pregnant, they run the admin side of things at the Hub in relative safety (it's still safer than the field!). That's it for the liberties taken in Torchwood.

In Doctor Who, I went with River Song's departure (what caused this) to be related to Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead arc during the last season of 10 when River dies in the Library to save everyone from the Vashta Nerada.

In NCIS, everything is still canon, but set in the newest season in a non-specific place.


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

The flight was uneventful. Gibbs slept the whole time and Ducky mused that the only time he saw his friend sleep so well was on a plane. Tony and Ziva annoyed each other much like he imagined a brother and sister would annoy each other. McGee kept himself busy on his laptop. He was either writing or watching movies, and Abby kept peering over the top of the seat to watch him. They were the only ones from NCIS that had been sent.

Jimmy had opted to remain behind and obviously so had Director Vance.

Gibbs woke on his own moments before it was announced that it was time to buckle themselves back in. With a yawn and a stretch he looked over at Ducky just as the stewards told McGee to stow his laptop and the rest of the plane to buckle themselves in for landing. "Sleep well?" asked Ducky.

With a short nod, Gibbs indicated he had but other than that said nothing except his typical. "I need a coffee as soon as we land."

Ducky chuckled. "Perhaps tea would be better."

Gibbs shook his head, then turned to Tony and Tim. "Knock it off."

"How'd he know...?" That was Tony, puzzled as usual to how Gibbs always seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.

"I hope you don't mind that in the time where we are not working twenty four seven on this case that I will take the liberty of visiting an old friend, Jethro?" asked Ducky.

"Sure," came Gibbs reply.

"His name is Brigidier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, although he's now known as Sir Alistair. Considering the preliminary report and the involvement of that other agency, I figured it would be useful to have his opinion on this. That, and I'm concerned about my missing friend. Coincidence brings me back and I never was a believer in coincidence... Good heavens, Jethro, is something the matter?" asked Ducky, suddenly concerned at the distant and pale look on Gibbs' face.

But the other man snapped out of the haze moments later at the mention of his name. "No, no, it's fine, Duck."

Ducky wasn't sure to which conversation Gibbs was referring to, but he continued cautiously. "Sir Alistair feels that our friend went missing in Canada in the eighties. We think he's still alive, though. He was always a hard nut to crack. But, even still we're concerned."

"Was he kidnapped?" asked McGee, suddenly interested.

"Oh no, nothing like that. More like he ran off on his own. Left everything behind him, including his home and belongings. Of course, we're quite concerned. He's never done anything quite like that before, and considering the good bye he left behind him we know he's an emotional wreck. We hope he's still alive," Ducky sighed then. "But it's been eleven months for us already... who knows with him..."

There was puzzled looks, but Abby picked up on the least puzzling fact. "After eleven months it's not likely he'll be found."

"We are aware of that, but we aren't giving up hope either, my dear. We known him for so long that we can't give up hope," Ducky answered.

The plane touched down and taxied to a stop. As they grabbed what little they had brought with them, each only bringing a small overnight bag with a few changes of clothes as well as their gear for working a crime scene. They all traveled light. They climbed down the steps to the tarmac and Ducky breathed in the air. "I missed England."

A black SUV with the word "Torchwood" rolled up and a handsome man climbed out of the driver's side, taking off a pair of sunglasses as he did so. "Welcome to England," he began. "My name is Jack Harkness, the team leader of Torchwood Three. Which one of you is Special Agent Gibbs?"

"I am," answered Gibbs as he walked forward.

Jack reached out a hand to shake the elder man's hand and Gibbs accepted it. "So, where is the crime scene?"

Jack seemed a bit surprised at this. "Straight to work, eh? I like that. Like it alot. Stow your gear in the back, and we'll get on our way."

They did so and Jack drove them through the city. "They were here when the attack happened, but we bagged and tagged everything for you, but I'll let you take what pictures you want and get aquainted with the scene. We left it shut down just in case your eyes picked up on something we missed... not that we usually do, but I figured you'd want a crack at it without us releasing the scene. When you're done, I'll take you to the Torchwood hub in Cardiff. That's where we took the evidence. It's a few hours away, but nothing to be done about it. Unfortunately Torchwood is a small agency."

"As is NCIS," pointed out Ziva. "We are much the same."

"Is that a... Hebrew accent?" asked Jack. "Lovely... exotic." He leaned closer. "Like you."

If Ziva was shocked she hid it well. "_Mr. Harkness_, perhaps it would be best if we kept this professional," said Gibbs with a touch of exasperation.

For a moment Jack crinkled his brows. It was not so much what Gibbs said, it was how he said it. A wash of familiarity broke over the man but he shook it off. It was almost like someone had walked over his grave and it was a feeling he was not relishing. He took note of it though. Gibbs had this thing about him, but given the man's history Jack was not all that surprised. Ex-marine turned cop. He would have to have something about him to lead this team. Jack wrote it off to that but took note of it in case something else triggered another bout of deja vu.

Jack watched as the extremely well trained and efficient team got to work. Gibbs asked questions of Jack, of which each time Jack had to guardedly respond, "That will have to wait until we're secure, Agent Gibbs."

Finally, in frustration, Gibbs had enough of the hedging around. "All right, what are you not telling us?"

The other man's mouth opened and then closed as he was faced with the full brunt of the elder looking man's fire in very icy blue eyes. They reminded him of another man's blue eyes.

Again, Jack pushed it aside. "I told you, Agent Gibbs... may I call you Jethro?"

"Just Gibbs is fine," retorted Gibbs.

"All right, Gibbs it is then, I told you I can't talk here about it. It's too open for ears that shouldn't hear it. Take what you can from the scene and I'll fill you in on the rest," Jack repeated.

"Jethro, I have a feeling I know why UNIT wanted us here, and Mr. Harkness is quite right," Ducky added. "I worked for UNIT... and I have heard of Torchwood. It will seem very strange but I assure you that Mr. Harkness has the best interest of the public and the case at heart."

Jack nodded at the elderly ME in thanks. "Fine, we're done here. Pack up your gear, put it in the SUV," barked Gibbs before he turned to Jack. "You - take us to this Torchwood Hub you keep yammering on about."

"Aye sir." Jack saluted, although it was neither a full one nor one really all that respectful, although it wasn't meant in disrespect.

Gibbs caught that, and he frowned, but his eyes didn't betray anything. If anything he rolled his eyes in exasperation before grabbing his gear, none to gently, and stalking off to the SUV to climb into the front passenger seat. Jack noted that Gibbs knew which side to get in on. The silver haired man leaned his head back, crossed his arms and then appeared to fall asleep. "Forgive him," Ducky explained. "He can be rather blunt, and he's had a frustrating few weeks with very little rest."

"Ah, don't think anything of it." Jack smiled. "He reminds me of a friend of mine actually." The smile fell off. "If I didn't know better I'd say it's strangely uncanny even if they are polar opposites. You said you worked for UNIT?"

"I did indeed," confirmed Ducky as they walked back to the SUV, Jack helping Ducky with his equipment.

"Ever meet a man known only as the Doctor?" asked Jack as he closed the back door.

"Did I? I worked with him for a time and we became friends. Good heavens, that was so very long ago. And Jethro is nothing like him. Oh, he has his moments where I get a good chuckle and think, if not for the very military bearing of our dear Jethro, that the Doctor and he would have also been good friends had they ever met," Ducky said, climbing into the back seat behind Gibbs so that he could see Jack.. "Ah, those were the days indeed. Quite an exceptional man he was... why did you know him as well?"

"Yeah, the friend he reminds me of is the Doctor," answered Jack, starting the engine and pulling out once everyone was belted in. "Did you know he went missing eleven months ago?"

"I did," answered Ducky darkly. "Sir Alistair told me ten months ago."

"Did he tell you we found a trace of him?"

"No he did not! That is good news... when did this happen?" asked Ducky, suddenly much happier.

"Found my vortex manipulator and his chameleon arch... at least Torchwood Five - Toronto - did. They didn't know what they were until we reported the items missing. Evidently they had been in their vaults since the eighties."

"I don't understand how a man who was missing for only eleven months could be missing for over thirty years," cut in McGee, his brows furrowing.

"A Vortex Manipulator allows one or two people to travel in what is called the Time Vortex. It's risky, but you can travel back and forth in time and space in limited jumps," explained Jack. "It's been eleven months for us - but over thirty years for him. He could be anywhere in the world, but at least we've narrowed it down to Earth. With a Vortex Manipulator he could have literally been anywhere in the known Universe... his known universe... not to mention anywhen. But finding those two things in Canada... and then... tells us that he's on Earth, and likely still here living life as a normal human man. Probably in Canada or the US... we hope. If he stayed in North America it narrows it down quite a bit. But that's not why you're here at all, and, much as we'd love the help finding our lost friend it's not really your problem."

Gibbs opened his eyes, a compassionate look in his eyes. "Any man who would move heaven and earth to find a friend is a good man. And if he was Ducky's friend, then you have our help... once this case is over."

Jack smiled, and it brightened the interior of the SUV. "That's the best news, not to mention offer, I've had all day! And I'll take you up on that. But you're right, this case first and if we run across trace of him again all the better. So, let's try this again. Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness, formally of the Time Agency in the 51st century, and now de facto Director of Torchwood, with our current headquarters Torchwood Three in Cardiff."

Gibbs stared at him and then sighed, while Abby practically danced in the back seat. "I knew it! I knew it! And you said they didn't exist!"

"I stand corrected," said Gibbs dryly. "Fine then, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs of NCIS. Formally Gunnery Sargeant of the Marine Corp."

"A Marine?" asked Jack in amazement. "Okay, I knew it by reading your file, but it seems so much more real to hear it come out of your mouth. And I can tell, Gibbs. It's in the way you walk and move. And, yes, I did notice that."

Gibbs tried not to let his mind wander too much into what Jack had just told him. In fact he decided he would ignore anything that was not case related out of Jack's mouth from this point on. That or related to his missing friend. It was far safer. He wasn't close-minded - it was just he did not swing that way and he hoped Jack would take the gentle hint so that it would not affect their professional relationship, or, as he genuinely liked the man and found himself warming up a bit, any friendship they may have. That's just the way it was.

Jack did take the gentle hint for what it was. No go on what he hoped, but the man was not some hateful prude or bigot and was able to maintain a distant professional relationship. Perhaps even friendship. Oh well. The world needs all kinds. It just so happened Jack liked all kinds, but he was willing to keep that distance from the man if that was what he wanted. "I could kill for a coffee and it's a good thing Ianto makes fantastic coffee."

A grunt was the reply. "Oh, you just found the way to Gibbs heart," said Tony from the back. "He lives on coffee."

"DiNozzo."

"Yeah, boss?"

"You feel that hand on the back of your head yet?"

"Point taken." And DiNozzo slapped himself for Gibbs as the elder man couldn't reach.

* * *

A/N: This chapter was mostly character interaction, I realize, but it was kinda necessary to hash out the two teams will likely react to each other.


	4. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

The NCIS team stepped past the open cog wheel and Tony looked around with a smile. "Nice place. A bit of London Underground meets Star Trek."

He flinched, waiting for the slap from Gibbs but was surprised when it didn't come. The reason being was that Gibbs was being shown up to the boardroom and into Jack's office, with Ducky in tow. Tony nodded up there to Ziva, Tim and Abby. "What do you make of that?"

"Something is clearly complicating our case," said Ziva as she followed them up to the boardroom where they all unpacked what gear they needed as a travelling office.

The rest remained in their packs. A man with coffee coloured skin, close cropped hair and vaguely military clothing came in and looked them over. "You must be NCIS. I'm Mickey Smith."

Tony shook his hand. "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, Special Agent Timothy McGee, Probationary Special Agent Ziva David, and Forensics Specialist Abby Scuito. Our team leader and Medical Examiner seems to be with your Director at the moment."

"Yeah, this case is a real complicated mess. Glad to have you around to help sort it."

At that moment, a few others joined him. "Here, let me return the favour, seeing as Jack is otherwise busy, this is Dr. Martha Jones, our medical expert. Gwen Cooper, now administrative but used to be field agent. Ianto Jones, no relation to Martha, our administrative management. Alonso is the one in the back, and he's a field agent as well. You may also see a woman that wanders by every so often. She's with Ianto and her name is Autumn. Don't bother asking for more, we have no idea what her last name is and Ianto here maintains she doesn't have one."

"Well, she doesn't," answered Ianto. "And she doesn't come by often unless she feels I've been working myself too hard."

"Yeah, a right mother hen she is."

At that moment, Jack, Gibbs and Ducky entered the boardroom. "Great, you've met each other," said Jack. "I'm glad to say that we've managed to hash out who will do what and in what role we'll conduct this joint investigation. Obviously, if it's English, its Torchwood. If its American, its NCIS. Everything else is split down the middle and shared. Understood?"

There were nods from Torchwood, and with a glance from Gibbs, also from NCIS. With a smile, Jack continued. "Great, here's the deal."

Gwen moved out of the way of the large LCD screen on the wall. "Ordinarily, had the attack not resulted in death, we would have retconned them and let them get on with their lives. Unfortunately, there were too many of them and someone died. Not to mention retcon is safer on the healthy, and we didn't want to risk it on the injured ones. This is what we know. At approximately two in the morning our time, a group of United States Navy and Royal Navy went to take in some sights with the Royal Navy showing the USN officers around. They were on their way back from a pub when they were attacked by an alien whose species is unknown to us at the moment. One was mauled to death, others, in trying to save him, were severely mauled and thus injured, but are expected to make a full recovery."

"Aliens." This from Tony. "Seriously?"

"This is what Torchwood does... and, as part of the UN, that is what UNIT does. Ask your colleague Dr. Mallard about his time in UNIT," retorted Jack. "Back to business. Because it involves USN personnel, you were brought in. And I know you're good at this. Help us find out what exactly happened that night and piece it all together. We'll take it from there. I wish I could give you something for JAG to pick over, but unfortunately, that's not the way it works with us."

There were looks around the table but Gibbs quelled them. "If that's the way it has to be, then fine. I don't like it though."

"Noted," answered Jack. "But it is the best way to deal with it. I wish we had another option but unless you'd like to see everyone start freaking out then it's just the way it's gotta be. Now, it's late and I don't like working all night. I wouldn't suggest wandering around given the circumstances of the case, but perhaps we should see if we can get you settled in for the night."

* * *

As usual, Gibbs stayed up far longer than them all. He found he never needed as much sleep as others did. Oh, he would eventually simply crash and sleep a full night or two in a row, but not like the others. He was surprised to find that he wasn't the only one on the balcony overlooking Cardiff. Jack was also leaning on the rail. "You ever sleep?" asked the other man.

Gibbs shrugged, but didn't answer.

"Yeah, neither do I. Leadership can suck that way. The worries always running around. You ever lose members of your team, Gibbs?" asked Jack and he was surprised when the stoic mask slipped for a moment to show a deep and great sorrow hiding beneath, but the mask was slammed down back in place as quickly as it had slipped out of place. "I'll take that as a yes. Never gets easier."

There was, of course, no answer from Gibbs. Jack was realizing why Ducky liked him so much. Ducky could talk the man's ear off and he'd simply listen in silence. "So, what do you do to keep it all at bay?" asked Jack, trying to get at least one word out of the man.

"I build boats in my basement," came the simple answer, and there was no further explanation as Gibbs fell back into his silence.

"Seriously?"

A side glance, one that showed he was very serious and not pulling Jack's leg on the matter. "Wow, that's some basement."

There was only a soft chuckle in response, but again, the man was silent. "Am I going to have to carry this conversation or are you going to add anything to it?"

"Thought I did already."

"Yeah, but with no explanation? Now you have me wondering. Not to mention what goes on in that head of yours. Are you sure you're the silent and mysterious type? Oh wait, no, you have it in spades." Jack sighed. "Man, I miss the Doctor. He could talk your ear off. I feel like I'm filling a space that no one can fill."

"The who?"

"Oh, right... remember I was talking to Dr. Mallard about this friend of ours who went missing eleven months ago?"

Gibbs nodded, and Jack continued. "His name was the Doctor. He was a time traveler... the best... his people only created time travel. He was the last of the Time Lords. An alien from the planet of Gallifrey, in the solar system of Kasterborous. He was at least 900 to 1000 years old, but so young at the same time. Saved the Earth more times than anyone cared to count. Worked with UNIT, evidently with Dr. Mallard. And had his twin hearts broken more than I care to count too. Finally got too much for him to bear and he... well... I'd say ran but that would be cruel. He'd reached his limits and needed to decompress the only way he knew how, I guess."

"And his name was the Doctor?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, yeah... I imagine he had a birth name or something, but he never used it. I'm pretty sure the Doctor is a translation. Like Jethro means something. Like Jack means something. Only instead of using the translation like we do, he used the meaning of his name. That's my theory, anyway," answered Jack. "I suppose it's as good as any. Not like he's around to tell me I'm wrong anyway."

Again silence fell and Jack simply looked over the city before sighing again. "He didn't leave in a good way. He said his good byes and then took off. Said he was drowning in sorrow and he needed to forget to move on before he drowned. If he'd only said something earlier maybe we would have been able to help him."

Gibbs didn't say anything to that, but his own thoughts were running through his head. Finally, he broke the silence. "I can understand his reasoning."

"Oh yeah?" asked Jack, and he wasn't surprised when all he got from Gibbs was another blue eyed glare.

It wouldn't be for hours until Jack realized that Gibbs, who had formally been the most adamant in his disbelief that aliens existed, had accepted his explanation of the Doctor without so much as a batted eyelash.

Again, that feeling of deja vu swept over Jack. Again, he forced it down, even while he filed the instance under suspicious.

* * *

As it was, it didn't take very long for things to go from bad to worse. Gibbs had sent Ziva and DiNozzo with Martha and Mickey to talk to the officers at the hospital when the cog wheels spun open and uniformed soldiers walked in. Gibbs looked up and instantly recognized the red berets of UNIT. What seemed more out of place was the elder man who walked with a cane, although he wore the same crisp uniform only with far more insignia. Jack looked up at the man's entrance and Gibbs got the feeling Jack happy to see him. "Brigidier!" exclaimed Jack.

"Greetings Jack, I heard that you may have found something of import in relation to our missing friend."

"We did," Jack answered, then he turned to Gibbs. "Give me a sec, I have to deal with this."

Jack gathered up the crate in his office before leaving the room to head to what served as the morgue. Ducky also was there, and Gibbs found himself wondering what his old friend was involved in that it required such secrecy. A moment later, Ducky called, "Jethro, since you decided we would help when not working on the case, perhaps you would like to be included in this?"

Gibbs stood up, closed the laptop so that it automatically password locked, and walked into the autopsy room. On a table was two items that seemed strange and unrelated to each other. Both also appeared dead. The Brigidier and Ducky were poring over them. "I recognize this technology as from his world, but this appears almost human…" The other man put the alien technology down gently, almost with a sense of reverence. "You said he was a bit depressed… He must have been to do this."

"Alistair, you saw the recording he left. He was more than depressed. I'd say shattered," clarified Jack.

"I'd like to see this recording you keep referring," said Ducky.

"No you don't." This was from both Sir Alistair and Jack, although Jack was the one who further explained. "He wasn't the same at all."

"Duck finished out another course in psychology. It serves to see into the mindset of criminals, so it could serve another purpose as well," pointed out Gibbs. "Maybe it might be a way to find a way to help, or find your friend."

"Jethro, whatever happened to not getting involved in something outside of our case?"

"Call it a secondary case that we just happen to have the expertise to help with. And we're here. Good enough for me."

Ducky turned to Sir Alistair and Jack, "So, about this recording?"

"We took a recording of it," answered Jack. "Seeing as it was related to a missing persons, technically, we put in evidence." Jack led them out of autopsy, and Gwen, who had heard everything was already bringing up the video recording of the holographic recording.

Moments later, the computer screen showed a flickering image, the holograph, of a young man in a tweed suit and a bow tie. Behind him defied explanation. "What the hell is that?" asked McGee.

"That is the inside of the TARDIS, the missing man's ship," answered Jack. "Listen."

They did. And Ducky rewatched the video a few more times before he finally let Gwen stop the video. He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes before turning to Jack. "What does he mean by the loss of Gallifrey?"

"He fought in a war. His whole world, and his people – all of them – were destroyed save for him and that TARDIS. It's all that remains," answered Ianto. "I can't imagine what that must have felt like… what it still feels like. But knowing that I can see why he'd want to forget it all."

"And the items in autopsy were found where and when?" asked Ducky.

"Torchwood Toronto said they found them not far from Sault. Ste Marie, in Ontario… it's a border city separated by a river. The US city is Soo Michigan," answered Jack. "They found them in the eighties. And before you tell me it's impossible – the man was a time traveler. So, while it's been eleven months for us, it's been at least thirty for him."

"Hell of a crossroads," said Gibbs. "But easy enough to start over."

"The poor man," murmured Abby.

* * *

Ziva and Tony followed Martha and Mickey through the hospital to a special wing where it was clear UNIT held sway. "Plenty of security on your patients," mentioned Ziva.

"It was necessary," answered Mickey. "Not that it came back to finish the job, but it case it does…"

"Very prudent," agreed Ziva.

Finally, Martha motioned them inside a room. A young man was lying on the bed, but he was reading a magazine. Both Ziva and Tony saw that he was badly hurt. "Good afternoon Lieutenant Sanchez," greeting Martha. "These are Special Agents DiNozzo and David of NCIS."

"NCIS… they said you were coming but I didn't believe it until now," said Sanchez. "Are you even going to believe me?"

"That depends, what do you think we won't believe?" asked DiNozzo.

"Just tell us what you saw and we will interpret and investigate it," said Ziva. "It doesn't matter what you think you saw… that can lie. We will find out the truth of the matter."

Martha lifted her brows and looked pointedly at Mickey. In one sentence, Ziva had not only put the lieutenant's mind at ease enough to actually get him to open up, but also come up with a viable explanation of how to convince the lieutenant that perhaps it wasn't as it seemed, making it possible that they would not have to use Retcon.

"All right," Sanchez agreed. "It literally came out of nowhere. Monica didn't have a chance. At first it looked like it was part of the shadow, then it was all teeth and claws. She was right there… and then there was nothing but bits. At first we tried to save her and then we knew all we could was run and hope we weren't next. I heard one of the English fellas scream, and then it had my leg. After that, Torchwood showed up and… well… I don't remember much after that. I might have passed out."

"And then what?" asked DiNozzo.

"I came to in the ER. I passed out. Woke up in recovery, I guess… then woke up again here and been here ever since. When can we get back to the ship, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"Hopefully soon," answered Tony. "You rest and heal up. Your country needs you back on your feet."

With a nod, Ziva followed him out into the hall, closely followed by Martha and Mickey. "Well?" asked Martha.

"I can definitely see why Torchwood was brought in," said Tony, scratching the back of his neck.

"Let us continue talking to the others before we head back so that we have more to give Gibbs," suggested Ziva.

"Not to mention Jack," murmured Mickey.


	5. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The four investigators returned to the Hub to find the others also mid conference. Gibbs turned to Tony and asked, "What have you got?"

"Well, it was definitely alien," answered Tony warily. "I'm no expert, but by the composite sketches I'd say we're a bit out of our league here."

Jack looked at the sketches, a frown on his face. "You know what it is, Jack?" asked Gwen.

"Not a fricking clue," he answered with a sigh.

It was at that point that Ianto looked at the monitor. "Uh oh, there are reports of Weevil activity in the Plass... whatever this is it is causing serious unrest."

Jack picked up his guns, making sure they were loaded, and the rest of his team did as well. Gibbs and his team also picked up their guns, with Gibbs only looking once to Jack in vague permission. With a nod, the eight people headed up into the Plass. "All right, we'll pair off," said Jack. "One NCIS with one Torchwood. I know you guys know your stuff, but please take our lead in this. Gibbs, you go with Martha, if you don't mind. McGee, with me. DiNozzo, with Mickey and the lovely Ziva with Alonso. That cool with you?"

Gibbs nodded and followed Martha as they split up to Jack's suggestion.

Again, the odd sensation of deja vu washed over Jack as he watched Gibbs and Martha run off in the other direction, but this time he had no choice but to push it aside as he had other things to focus on.

Martha kept up with the older Marine, although barely. The man was lithe and in excellent shape that defied the silver hair. Martha kept an eye on their six and his, but neither was prepared for what they found around the corner. Gibbs' eyebrows rose inches when he and Martha came to a swift halt to see that there were at least ten Weevils in the alley way. Turning to retreat she saw two more coming up behind. "Sir..."

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living," came Gibbs automatic answer, although it was soft as to prevent the strange aliens known only as Weevils from bolting.

She nodded. "All right, there is a ladder to your left and two steps behind. On my signal climb it. I'll do what I can," he told her.

"What do you intend to do?"

"What I can to make sure you can get up that ladder in one piece."

She was about to argue, but knew the minute she did that the Weevils would be on them and they would both be dead. Gibbs stepped forward, took aim at the biggest one and fired his side arm, taking it down with one shot to the head and right between the eyes. Martha correctly deduced that was the signal as the Weevils came to life and headed straight to him. She was halfway up when he very nimbly all but jumped the two steps back, and then the next two steps back and then promptly part of the way up the ladder to climb quickly catch up. One Weevil managed to grab a hold and he was pulled part of the way down, but Martha fired and shot that one in head to make it fall on the others.

She could see the pain in Gibbs eyes as he forced himself to climb while she covered him. One arm was useless as was one of his legs.

Martha pulled him to the roof and then locked the rungs. Gibbs leaned heavily on her as she helped him to someplace he could sit and where she could see the damage. He hissed in pain, but other than that was silent. She looked at his mangled leg and the dislocated shoulder. "That will need to be reset."

"Again," he muttered. "I'm not worried about it. What about the leg?"

"That may require more drastic measures," she answered. "You have a knife? I'd hate to say this but you may have to cut the pants so I can make sure you don't bleed to death."

"I've had worse."

But he went through his pockets and then pulled out a jackknife. But he slid something else into his pocket that she caught sight of. Something painfully familiar. She cut the pant leg open and asked, "What was the other thing you put away?"

He looked at her funny, then pulled out the old, but yet carefully taken care of fob watch. "This? I've had it for years. I think I inherited it, but I'm not sure." He shrugged as he put it back in his pocket. "Never been able to really part with it, as useless as it is. Been broken as long as I've kept it."

It was the most he had spoken on anything not case related, but it wasn't what caught her attention. It was the intricate work on the metal, not to mention the strange metal itself that she'd seen before he had hidden it away again. She had seen the fob watch before.

In the hands of the Doctor while when he had hidden himself away from the Family of Blood.

She paused for a second, looking him up and down. It took everything in her power to focus back on his leg. Thankfully it had not been as bad as she first thought, but then again, if he was the missing Time Lord then even while hidden away as a human his healing rate was far superior. "Can you stand?" she asked after making a make shift sling for his arm to immobilize it.

He stood up to test himself out and nodded, although he still moved with a pronounced limp. "I think so."

"Great," she answered shakily, looking him in the now unfamiliar blue eyes.

How she missed the chocolate brown eyes of her Doctor in the blue pinstripe suit and long brown coat, but she liked Gibbs as well. He was quiet, introspective. Few words and to the point action, but yet that same agelessness, even if he was unaware of what truly hid beneath, the same sorrow. It was like he had run from one sorrow to another. She was aware that for as much as she was looking at him he was equally taking her measure.

But he would not remember her. She smiled, and then took out her cell phone and called Jack. "Jack, we've got a situation."

* * *

By the time they made it back to the hub, Gibbs was mostly walking without help and without a limp. His leg still looked like a mass of bruises and deep scratches, and his arm still needed to be relocated, but he was in far better shape that he had been in the alley. Jack and McGee helped him to sit on the autopsy table. It wasn't the first time it would serve as their infirmiary, nor would it be the last. "Do you want something for the pain?" she asked.

Gibbs was about to shake his head, then he sighed. "Might be for the best. Might make your job a bit easier."

She nodded and prepared a strong dose of painkiller. "It will likely make you extremely groggy, so it may be best if you lie down," she instructed as Jack and Ducky, who fussed over his friend, made the autopsy table more like a bed for him to lie on than a metal table.

Gibbs felt himself settling as his limbs grew heavy, as did his eyelids. The pain receded to a manageable ache, then faded entirely. Then again, so did the entire world as he felt himself drop off a deep, dark cliff into sleep.

Once Gibbs was under, Martha sighed and looked up at Jack and Ducky. With a meaningful glance, Jack had Ianto lead McGee and Abby out to sit with Gwen. Once they were out of earshot she looked at them both. "He has the watch."

"What?" asked Jack, shocked, while Ducky looked mildly confused. "How can he have it?"

"Because he's the Doctor. It's him!" she quietly exclaimed in a hushed whisper, and Ducky's eyes widened in shock.

"It... it can't be..." he breathed, and then he began to connect the dots, the traits, and the signs. "Oh my heavens... oh Jethro..."

"You know I'm right," she said, looking at Ducky, as she reset Gibb's, no, the Doctor's, shoulder. She brought out the fob watch and showed Jack and Ducky. "See the symbols on it? They're the same as in the TARDIS. They're in his language. He doesn't understand it - he thinks he's human. He thinks he inherited it."

Ducky smiled sadly as she continued her work, focused on the Doctor even while she talked. Finally she finished and then pulled the blanket up over the man's shoulders, smoothing it out as she did so. It was in tender affection for a friend they'd almost given up all hope of finding. Jack, smoothed back the extremely short silver hair, and remembered another cropped haired, blue eyed Doctor with a leather jacket. The similarities were there, but so were marked differences.

"He ran and found himself in the same life all over again," mused Jack.

There was silence, but then Martha dimmed the lights to let the man sleep and they filed out the room. Martha set the others minds at ease. "He's fine, he just needs to rest himself at that arm. He's sleeping off something I gave him for pain, so he's comfortable right now. Leave him be. He'll wake on his own in a few hours and then we can move him out of the autopsy room and back to the hotel where he can rest and heal faster."

She looked at Jack pointedly, and with a nod Jack left the hub silently. There was someone, something, else that would want to see the return of its Time Lord, even if he didn't remember. She would make him remember who and what he was, and soothe his tortured soul. This time so would they all.

The man had other family now, although his new companions were not the same as Martha and Jack had been.

* * *

Amy was surprised when Jack turned up out the blue, although she could see something had changed. "What is it?" she asked as Jack ran into the TARDIS.

"We found him."

Her eyes widened and she followed him in. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he turned up in the eighties and used the Vortex Manipulator as power for the Chameleon Arch, which effectively turned him human and wiped his memories of ever being a Time Lord. He also looks different... drastically different. He lived for thirty odd years as a human on the slow path, in the US. He... he's different." Jack turned back to the console where the room began to light up with the news that her pilot had been found, alive, and relatively well. "I'm taking the TARDIS back to Cardiff. Martha and I are going to bring him back to himself. Amy, it might be best if you stayed behind. If what Martha tells me is true about this little process, it won't be pretty to watch. Could be downright nasty."

She sat down and clutched the rails surrounding the console. "I'm not going anywhere but to where he is. The same with Rory. We're his friends and after what we saw of that message he left that's what he needs is his friends. We're more than that. We're family. His. And he's our family."

Rory walked in midway and said, "I take it we found him then?"


	6. Interlude  Turning Point

**INTERLUDE  
TURNING POINT**

Gibbs woke, and he knew he was no longer in the autopsy room of the Torchwood hub in Cardiff. The room was too perfectly comfortable in both temperature and humidity, the lighting just so when he opened his eyes and found that his eyes could see perfectly fine and it didn't hurt them like lights would first thing upon waking. There was a hum that he couldn't identify that increased in volume and tone, almost like something was pleased that he was awake and was greeting him.

Gingerly, and without putting weight on his relocated and sore shoulder, he sat up and looked around.

Definitely not the autopsy room, nor the hotel room. Nor a military base bunk.

He lay in a slightly larger than double size bed under a coverlet that was embroidered... or painted... or perhaps even silk-screened... with silver leaves around the edge and a deep red of varying textures, although the fabric was rich. The sheets were a rich soft linen and smelled of sweet grass and somewhat like apples. There were no windows in the room, and looking around he could see what seemed like coral acting as bulkheads and a cool bronze metal serving as walls.

The hum he heard, he realized, was the sound of an engine but it was nothing like he'd ever heard before. "Where the hell am I?" he asked aloud, as he stood up, then swayed in dizziness.

Oh yes, Dr. Martha Jones had given him something very strong for pain and he had fallen asleep under its influence. They had obviously moved him somewhere to sleep it off. As to where, he had no clue. He sat down heavily and waited for the dizziness to pass, which it thankfully did.

With a sigh he stood again, and then found what he was looking for. It wasn't his clothing per se but it was better than wandering around in his t-shirt and underwear. He pulled on the dressing robe and slipped on the slippers, although, by the feel of the floor, he really didn't have to. The floor also was just perfect in temperature for his feet. It was strange and uncanny, as if the entire room was set to his personal preferences, but yet certain things were out of place.

It was then he noticed his arm, while sore, wasn't nearly as sore as it should have been, nor nearly as useless as it should have been. He looked down at the mangled leg and saw that it had almost entirely healed. All that was left was the faint white marks of where scarring had happened, and they looked old... like it had been years.

_Tell me I didn't end up in another coma_. He sincerely hoped not. Comas were by far the most disorienting experience and he had two too many as it was. Then again, that would explain the disorientation he was feeling right now.

But if so, where were the blasted doctors?

He opened the door and found himself on something at least vaguely familiar, although now he could honestly say he knew one hundred percent that he was on a ship. The deck plating of the corridor gave it away. He stepped out of the cabin and looked one way and then the other.

Not to mention the ship appeared to be huge with the corridors seeming to have no end. But where was the crew? "Hello?" he called, hearing the endless echo.

He felt something brush against his mind, something reassuring. Although his logical part was screaming it wasn't possible he wasn't alarmed by it. The hum of the ship changed and he wandered. Gibbs wandered for what seemed like hours, poking his head into a never-ending puzzle. He knew that it was a ship but the ship defied logic. So far he'd found a garden, a library with a pool in it, another library... a galley... even a wardrobe that would have put most malls to shame. Finally his wanderings brought him to the room that convinced him that he was not on an Earth made ship.

Something told him that it was a control room, but also some sort of engineering. He walked up to the six sided console, running his hand along the edge.

At that moment the doors to the other side of the room opened and Jack Harkness strode in with Dr. Jones behind him. For a long moment the three of them stared at each other and then Jack and Martha broke out into wide grins. "You have no idea how much it makes us happy to see you there again," said Jack. "Welcome home, Doc. She's missed you."

"What?" he asked, in shock.

That only seemed to make them even happier.

"What?" he asked them again, but kept it even, making sure his true alarm wasn't showing.

That hum changed, and he felt as if something, no someone, was also just as amused as they were.

Finally, in a frustrated and semi-angry tone, he exclaimed, "What?"

Dr. Jones walked up to him and made a placating gesture and Gibbs calmed down. "I'm sorry, I should know better. The last time you did this, you were... not yourself either. It's just that we missed you terribly."

"I wasn't in another coma?" asked Gibbs. "How long this time? Where is my team? What the hell is going on here?"

"That's the Doctor I'm used to hearing," said Jack. "Damn, it feels like years." He held up his hand to forstall another stream of questioning by Gibbs. "Okay, we owe you an explanation. You haven't been out that long, only about sixteen hours since Dr. Jones and I brought you in from that rooftop. You remember us splitting up into pairs with your team from NCIS, right?"

Gibbs looked at his leg, flexed his arm. "Can't have only been that."

"It was," answered Martha. "You heal fast... especially on the TARDIS. You always did, Doctor."

"Wait, no... you told me about this friend of yours... this Doctor... that went missing eleven months ago. I haven't been missing. I've got a life..."

"Okay, listen to me... Gibbs..." began Jack. "Remember us explaining the Chameleon Arch when we showed you that video of that Doctor?"

Gibbs nodded. "So, you're saying I changed my face somehow. Stole your Vortex Manipulator, used it to get back in time to, what? The late seventies, early eighties? Then used the manipulator-whatsit to do something or over to that other thing to make me forget everything I'd done before as that other man?"

Jack and Martha looked at each other. "Basically, yes," answered Martha.

Gibbs laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. "You're both crazy."

Turning serious, Jack opened the door and Gibbs could see the Hub beyond. Hesitating slightly, he walked outside, and realized that the ship was inside the limited space of the hub. He turned and what met his eyes made him blink.

A blue police box from the sixties, used in Britain before the advent of the cell phone. He walked around it. It was exactly as he thought it was. He walked back in and looked around the room he stood in, and knew, because he'd walked those halls, what the rest of the ship held. For a long moment he was silent. "Okay, that was worth it to see the look on your face," said Jack. "For the record."

"It's bigger on the inside," breathed Gibbs, only able to blink.

"Yeah, something unique to Time Lords. At least the mastery of it on this scale. So you always maintained. The impossible man with the impossible ship, doing impossible things," Martha said softly, gently.

"Why can't I remember?" asked Gibbs. "Not saying I believe you..."

"It's called the Chameleon Arch," explained Martha. "I don't understand it but I seen you use it before. Basically, it rewrote your biology. It made you human and then stored the rest of you away in another 'bigger on the inside' device. The last time it looked like a fob watch, made of the same metal as your TARDIS, etched with the symbols and lettering of your home world. It's how we found you." She brought out the watch he had been carrying on the roof. "I bet it'd open now if you tried."

"And if I do?" asked Gibbs.

"You'll remember everything," she replied, but years of being with NCIS told him she wasn't telling him everything.

"And what else?" he asked.

For a moment she was shocked, then she recovered. "Gibbs will still be part of you. You will remember everyone and everything, his experiences yours. But... you won't be Gibbs anymore. You'll be far more. You'll be you... all of you."

He took the watch. Gibbs had never been an indecisive man. He thought about what she said and came to one conclusion. He had lived for Shannon and Kelly, and they were gone. He had loved Jen, and she was gone. He had friends who he considered family. He'd never forget them.

Gibbs opened the watch.


	7. Chapter Five

**A/N**: Past the half-way point. Obviously, from reading the Interlude, Gibbs isn't... well... you'll see. I am literally biting my nails here because I've taken both characters into a no-where land of "Jeez, I hope I manage to marry the two into one person where people believe it, but also don't muck either of them up past all recognition." I will maintain that if it ever came to a vote, and he was available, I thoroughly would vote for Mark Harmon to be the 12th Doctor. Preferably with the personality I'm trying to convey here, which is a Gibbsy-Doc. (Gods, I hope I managed it okay...)

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

Jack and Martha had to step back. It was like watching the Doctor regenerate although Martha knew that it wasn't. Not really. He would still be the same man as before but no longer merely human. That is, if he had been really only human. She suspected he'd always been a bit more than that. Something always hiding just under the surface.

Finally the brilliant golden glow dimmed and he leaned against the rail of surrounding the console, breathing hard as if he had run a marathon. Blinking, he looked at them.

For the first time, they saw the real recognition. Moments later it was anger and sadness. "What have you done?" he shouted, before he clutched his head. "Oh... my head."

Martha had a sudden flashback to a skinny bloke in a pinstripe suit laying half out of it on a rooftop after being struck by lightening in a 1930's New York while trying to save the world from crazy Daleks with names. They ran up to him and helped him to sit as he slid down to lean against the console. "Doctor?" she asked, anxiously. "Please forgive us..."

"For what?" he asked gently. "Trying to find a stupid, thick old Time Lord for eleven months? One that, as Gibbs, I could see was a dear enough friend to you to send out a search party for?"

Jack leaned forward. "Doc?"

"Jack?"

"My God... oh thank God," breathed Jack before he kissed the man full on the lips.

As usual, there was no response, and he pulled back. As usual there was the same vague annoyed look, with a slight sparkle of amusement in the ancient eyes. And it was plain as day how much the Doctor had aged since they had last saw him. "You're you now, right?" he asked. "The Doctor? Not the human NCIS agent?"

With a sigh, the Doctor nodded. "Yes, Jack." Even the accent had changed slightly. It was still basically the same, but the subtle intonation of an accent due to a native language unheard of on Earth flavoured it. "I'm me again. I remember Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I remember his life. Like with Professor John Smith in 1913, which I am sure Martha remembers with great detail, I remember it like it happened to another person. Although it is more than that. Anyway, it is all very... complicated."

"Nothing like what we stupid apes would understand?" asked Jack with a smile.

This Doctor was silent for a time, which was more due to his personality this time around. Now that he remembered he was a Time Lord, and at the brightness of Martha's smile as she checked his hearts, he was indeed the Time Lord they were looking for, he talked more than "Gibbs" had. But he still was less talkative than any of the incarnations Jack had met. "So, which one is this?" asked Jack.

"Twelve," answered the Doctor, without missing a beat as he got up and walked around, caressing the console of the TARDIS as he did so. "Hello old girl. I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you worry like that but you know what was going through my mind..."

Jack motioned to Martha, and they walked to the door. But Jack turned back and said, "You even think about leaving before coming out here and talking it all over with your friends I will personally kick your ass."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Jack," answered the Doctor, then his eyes widened. "Oh. Damn. The case we were working on."

Martha and Jack looked at each other. "We still have a case, right? I don't think, even as brilliant as you all are - and that includes my team from DC - that we could have solved it in sixteen hours while I was sleeping."

Jack shook his head. "No, you're right. There is still a case."

"Then give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed and we can continue to work on it," answered the Doctor, just before he had another thought. "Ducky. Oh my... does he know about me yet?"

"Uh... you may want to talk to him," answered Martha. "He saw that watch and he helped us to get you in here. I can tell you he's about to give you an earful next time you see him."

A chuckle was the reply. "Oh, I don't doubt that one bit."

* * *

Jack and Martha waited anxiously outside, as did the entire team from NCIS. Mickey stood by Martha, looking at her every so often. He saw the change in her eyes and the less tense look in her shoulders. Considering the TARDIS was sitting squarely in the middle of the hub, and out of the water, he had a feeling he knew who would be walking out of those double doors.

He was also glad to know the Doctor was back, safe and sound. "So, where is Gibbs?" asked Abby. "You told me he was hurt. What hospital is he in? Did you take him back to the hotel?"

Ducky walked up and touched her arm and she quieted a bit, reassured that somehow Ducky knew what was going on. In truth he was as anxious and tense as everyone else. When Jack had carried Gibbs into the TARDIS with Martha in tow, he had not been sure what to think about the bomb of the fob watch had been dropped on him. He'd had no way to explain it to the others so he didn't. Gibbs would. Or he wouldn't.

As typical for either Gibbs or the Doctor, whomever he was when he came out of the doors.

Judging by Jack and Martha it would no longer be Gibbs.

They didn't wait long as the doors were pulled open and Gibbs, or the Doctor, walked out. As usual, he was dressed as Gibbs would be, only slightly more expensively and in darker colours. This wasn't lost on DiNozzo who whistled. "Man, boss, there an expensive closet in that closet?"

"Something like that, DiNozzo," answered Gibbs as he looked around. "So, what have you got?"

For a moment everyone looked at him. "Oh no you _don't_," started Ducky as he walked forward. He could see the difference in his friend's eyes. The look was identical, if older, than the old friend that had gone missing. "You are going to tell us everything before we go back to that. Close this one case before going to the other. Now."

The two men stared at each other and, out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor who had been Gibbs saw Abby look from one to the other. "All right," he let his natural way of speaking slip, and he saw Ducky's eyes widen at the change in accenting.

Gone was the vaguely southern and rough tone of the American Marine turned NCIS agent. It was still mostly American, but the accent that tinged his speech now was unlike anything any of them had ever heard, as if the natural language spoken was alien in nature. At that moment Ducky accepted the truth and hugged the other. "Doctor!" he cried as pulled him close.

For a moment the other was stiff, unsure of what to do but he tapped Ducky's back as a sign to release him. Neither the Doctor or Gibbs had been much for hugging. Ducky looked deep into the centuries, perhaps even millenia, old eyes of his alien friend. "It is you," said Ducky, and moments later the Jack promised dress down started. "Do you have any idea what you did to these people who call you a friend? They worried over you, looked for you. Searched desperately and worried even more. Eleven months, Doctor. Eleven. And they knew that as a time traveler that eleven months could easily be years! And it was years for you. How many times did you come this close to dying as the human Marine? As the human federal agent?"

The Doctor took Ducky's speech silently, and with a stillness that was not quite the same as he remembered. It was how he knew Gibbs to be, and Ducky realized that Doctor or not, he and Gibbs were still one and the same. He was just more than that as well. "And the TARDIS... your beautiful time ship. The last as its been explained to me by Sir Alistair. He's been leading the search. Why would you run off and make us all worry like that?"

By this time the Doctor was looking at the ground, and then he looked up. "That was not my intention."

"You told me yourself that the road to hell is paved with intentions, good or not, both as Jethro _and_ the Doctor," exclaimed Ducky finally. "Dammit Doctor, I've known you for over thirty years. I worked with you in UNIT. Then I worked with you for nearly fifteen years at NCIS." He caught a small twinkle. "Don't even get into the whole 'time isn't as linear as us humans think' deal with me. Not _now_, dammit. Don't you _dare_. Even as Gibbs, while you wouldn't run from danger when it concerned everyone else. Never for others. But when it concerned you it never even entered that thick Time Lord skull of yours that perhaps _we'd_ do the same for _you_."

"You're right," admitted the Doctor, and that disarmed Ducky immediately.

"_Quite right!_" Ducky exclaimed one more time. "Now, tell all of us the truth of yourself. Tell the team you've led for _years_ that Leroy Jethro Gibbs never actually _quite_ existed. They rather suspected anyway. And after you've done _that_, perhaps you can explain just who in hell is Jackson Gibbs, really? Because he sure as hell isn't your father, is he?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, he's... he's a lovely man who found me outside of the Soo who took me in because I was so young, so amnesiac. He is who he said he was, and he adopted me when all attempts by police failed to find who I really was. Or rather, his wife insisted they would. But, you're right, he's not my father. Not really."

That placated Ducky more than anything. "So, he told the truth but left out the fact that he adopted you."

"Yes."

McGee cut in here. "Wait a minute here. Are you telling us you're not even human?"

"Not even remotely," answered the Doctor, then he smiled.

"He's the friend that went missing eleven months ago - the one from the video," explained Ducky.

The entire NCIS team gasped, and Abby ran up to him and hugged him. "You poor man. I knew there was something more about you. Even in being right... after seeing that... this is for you."

The Doctor hugged Abby back tenderly. Then she slapped him. "Don't you ever do that to your friends again." Then she hugged him again, kissing the cheek she had just slapped. "Wait... does that mean you're not coming back with us when this is over?"

Trust Abby to bring up the elephant in the room that no one else wanted to bring up. "Let's hear that explanation we're all owed first," said Mickey.

With a nod, the Doctor explained, "I sent River Song to her death. I knew it had to happen, but it didn't make it any easier. You see, in my tenth self, while travelling with Donna Noble, we found ourselves on a library planet. I first met River there, but it was clear that she had met me before... and she knew my name."

"Your name?" asked Martha, her eyes widening. "As in your real one? The one you were given on Gallifrey?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, and while I found her insufferably arrogant in that knowledge, as well as arrogant in rubbing it in my face... there was something about her. A brilliance I found myself attracted to. I didn't love her, not at that point. Not until she did something stupid but brilliant at the same time. She sacrificed herself to save me, to save thousands of others." He sat down, leaning against the TARDIS as he did so. "I met her again as my eleventh self, only this time, obviously, it was somewhere near the mid-point or end of our relationship. Then again... when she helped me save all of creation from the cracks in the universe. She left again." He took a breath. "After that I saw her one last time and she told me, quite excitedly, that she was going to the Library because contact had been lost. I knew what was coming. I knew it had to happen like that or time would unravel because if I died, then certain events wouldn't come to pass. She was a fixed point. And I sent her to her death after telling her my name."

"My God," breathed Martha. "You loved her."

The Doctor shook his head. "Not as much as that, no, but she was dear to me, yes. More so than some others, but... not love. We'd never been like that."

"So you came back to Cardiff to drop off Amy and Rory, and the TARDIS, and you ran from it all. You made yourself forget her and what you'd done," summed up Ziva. "And ended up in the US, to become a Marine where you went through it all again as a human man."

"Yeah, boss, that's... some escape..." mused DiNozzo, but it wasn't said in cruelty, as his tone was sorrowful and empathetic. "And you still never could talk about your personal life. The same pattern repeated."

For a moment, the Doctor looked at DiNozzo and he could see the shared pain. "I could not deal with just that. I have over nine hundred years of sorrow and pain that needed to be worked through in a way I could deal with it. As that human man I had one lifetime to deal with. A lifetime that, even if painful, was filled with joy. But it was still only one lifetime. I figured if I managed to forget the nine hundred years and I lived one life then perhaps, if I didn't die of age, then when I opened the fob watch I would have learned how to deal with it all through learning to deal with the one."

Ducky laughed, but it was mirthless. "For the first time since this began, that's the first thing that's made sense to come out of your mouth."

"I wasn't always like this," admitted the Doctor. "As you well know."

"No, that much I well know. You've grown far more human over each century you've lived. You were less... feeling... then than you are now. Now you feel things keenly, don't you?" asked Ducky.

"As much as any human man would," admitted the Doctor. "Being around humans has made me more like you. I am still a Time Lord, still a product of my upbringing on Gallifrey, still not human... but I've learned to feel those living feelings, both the up and the down, through being with people who do instead of being less than that. I once told someone that even with your short life spans that you are all like giants to me, and it has never been so plain how right I was on that."

For a long moment everyone was silent. "So, what now?" asked Mickey. "Are you going back to travelling or are you staying?"

"I don't know yet," answered the Doctor. "But first, there is a case that has been left unfinished. As irony has it, it is one that asks for both the Doctor and the man Gibbs was."

"Was?" asked Ducky sadly, seeing the others of NCIS look at each other just as sadly.

"I am so sorry," said the Doctor. "But, although I remember the man Gibbs was, and I remember his life... I am not Gibbs. I was Gibbs - but I am no longer. I am the Doctor, no more no less. I won't forget any of you, but you know as well as I that I can't stay forever."

"And there you have it," said Gwen.

Abby hugged him again, sniffling as she did so. "I won't forget you either."

The Doctor actually hugged her back, then, when she pulled away, he looked around. "Now, I'll ask again, what have you got?"

* * *

**A/N**: Back to the case, with a very Gibbs-like Doctor. I think this incarnation will be (he is, after all, Gibbs and has lived as Gibbs for well over 30-ish years... don't expect a drastic change in personality). As I said before, marrying the two characters as one character is going to be hell, but I'm thinking he'll be a cross between Gibbs & the 9th, which a bit of the later stages of 8 and 10 thrown in. Style in dress, still very much Gibbs, only slightly more expensive.

Will he leave NCIS or will he stay? That is the big question.


	8. Chapter Six

**CHAPTER SIX**

The others had gone to their hotel rooms. He still, technically, had one of his own but he found he didn't need it. He had at least thirty years of memories to sift through and come to terms with to add to the other 910. With a bit of a sigh, the Doctor realized that it made him, if he were to add it all together, around 950 years old.

He supposed he could re-edit his own view of things and conveniently forget a decade... or a century... or so to bring it down to something humanity wouldn't automatically falter over but he'd come to a realization that it was usually better to leave it. This incarnation of him was more than happy. Well, not happy, but pragmatic enough, to not bother with the affectation of worrying about what others thought of his age.

The Doctor had turned 1000 when he was in his fifth incarnation, and more than a few centuries had since past. If he had to add it all together, he was actually closer to 1950 years old instead of the 950 he told the rest of humanity. With a wistful smile he realized he was still older than Jack, who thought he had beaten the Doctor by a century.

Wrong.

And he still wasn't really counting the years he had spent on Gallifrey before he had started adventuring. The years where he'd had a family; a wife, children and grandchildren. There were loads of legend and rumours about Gallifreyan society, some of it true, but the reality was far different. Far less legendary or strange. Almost boring, really. Probably why it was flavoured with wild ideas and myth to fit a species that was almost mythical. Some of them were laughable and he'd, perhaps foolishly in his relative youth, not helped in dissipating any of these.

Not that it helped with his current issue. His current incarnation's life which had been spent as a human man. Strangely (or not) he had been as much a magnet for trouble as the human as he had the Time Lord and had to get himself and others out of just as many issues as he had before.

Anthony DiNozzo had been correct on that much. If the Doctor had thought that he had run from his life when he became Leroy Jethro Gibbs he had been dead wrong. Gibbs had almost been worse given that he had one life to live and as a human, albeit a Time Lord augmented one, far frailer than the Doctor's own physiology. With a shiver he realized how foolish an idea it had been. It had only caused more pain, more complications.

The biggest one was what faced him now.

Could he honestly continue to live as Leroy Jethro Gibbs, continue living in that spare, spartan, house in DC. Continue working for NCIS and hope to deities he didn't believe in (mostly because Gallifrey didn't have Gods. Only the original Triumvirate came close) that the US Military didn't discover his unique physiology and he end up exactly where he didn't want to be - someone's experimental rat in a lab.

He didn't want to leave. He didn't know if he could stay.

He heard the soft footsteps as someone came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder as he did so. "You still love me?" asked Abby quietly.

"Of course I do," he smiled. "How could I not?"

"When you explained what you were today, who you were really... and from what I've heard from another instance with this Chameleon Arch I was afraid you wouldn't be you anymore," she answered. "You're not."

The Doctor closed his eyes in pain. "Abby."

She took a breath, letting him go. "You're like the Dad of NCIS. Only not, obviously. What I'm trying to say is that you can't leave. You're still Gibbs. You still look like him. You still remember us. You still remember what made Gibbs him. Okay, you're more now. A whole lot more and we can deal with that. I can deal with that. Even Ducky was always your friend. It wouldn't be that much different, would it?"

The Doctor watched her as she paced, waving her arms around. A slight smile graced his lips. Oh yes, he remembered Gibbs. He wasn't Gibbs. Not anymore. But it doesn't mean the man had vanished without a trace. Perhaps the side effect of being Gibbs for over thirty years made the imprint of him that much more pronounced. "Yes and no."

She stopped pacing. "How?"

"Well, as you said I'm not exactly Gibbs anymore. Yes, I was him. Yes, I remember him and what he was, and who you were all to him. But I'm still different, Abby. Very different. Alien different, and by that I don't mean through illegal immigration. I'm not human. I look like it. But I'm not. Could you imagine if the military in your country caught wind of an alien that was right within their grasp?" he asked, gently trying to make her see that he could not return to NCIS, much as he wanted to.

Or didn't want to. He wasn't exactly the tied down in one spot kind of person. He'd chafe at the limitations. That was part of the problem. He didn't know what he wanted to do at this point, and neither action would be good enough to answer it.

"Will I see you again?" she asked.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes!" she cried as she hugged him again.

"Would you want to come with me?" he asked, then closed his mouth.

_Come with him?_ What was he thinking? Make Abby another companion and put her in the danger he had always kept her away from at NCIS? Only worse. Far, far worse. But the damage had been done. She had stilled in his arms, and then she pulled away from him, looking in his eyes searchingly. "What?" she asked, surprised. "Could I?"

"Others have," he answered. "Martha, Mickey, even Jack. And others. I'll be honest, lots of others. All friends. Like an extended family. Actually, I once even took my granddaughter with me." Her eyes widened at this. "I'm sorry, so sorry. That was too much for you at once, wasn't it?"

"You talk more than Gibbs did," she said, with a smile. "Somewhat more. You take fits where where you talk more. Then you take fits where you're like Gibbs."

He turned back to the railing of the balcony. "That wasn't a bad thing," Abby said, touching his shoulder. "Just different. But that's okay."

"This is the most silent version of me, you know," he explained. "I'm heavily influenced by my time as Gibbs. You'll always see that. But I'm still the Doctor - and I have so many years of not being Gibbs on top of that. You think you can handle that?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

The Doctor walked back into the hub, all trace of his previous injuries gone and both Ducky and Martha satisfied with his recovery enough to let him near the field. Some progress had been made in the case, but it was far from being closed. The attacks were getting more frequent, more daring. UNIT had also been brought in and had been thrilled when their "Code Nine" had strolled through the door moments later.

Which was the situation he found himself in.

It wasn't packed, but the hub was teeming with red berets. Although, there was one man who was dressing down Jack at the moment and that man brought a smile to the Doctor's face.

"Mr. Harkness, I thought we agreed that if a Code Nine was found, you would not only tell Brigidier Bambera, but also me directly. And then I come in and it's Dr. Jones and Dr. Mallard both who tell me he's been finally found. When were you planning on telling me?" demanded Sir Alistair.

"I asked them not to," answered the Doctor, loudly enough to cut through the buzz of noise in the hub.

Sir Alistair, formally Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart of UNIT, now retired and knighted, turned at the sound of his voice. He looked the Time Lord up and down, then turned to Jack. "Is this a joke?"

"Not at all, Brig," answered the Doctor as he walked up the stairs and took Alistair's hand in his own. "Still keeping Bessie safe for me?"

For a long moment Sir Alistair was struck speechless. "Doctor?" he breathed in shock. "My God man... I saw your file as Gibbs. What the hell were you thinking?"

The Doctor didn't answer. "I take it things have gone from bad to worse with the case?" he asked Jack.

Jack handed him the new file and he walked to a free seat, which he hardly noticed that an officer in UNIT had hastily given up in favour of the man all of them prayed to meet but hoped not to have to. The entire hub had stilled to mere whispers in minutes. Sir Alistair followed the man, taking his measure. He was expecting Gibbs. He got the Doctor. He wasn't sure how he was feeling on it. Either way, the Doctor was not the same as he had been in any of the incarnations Alistair had met. There was a stillness, a coolness. A deep sorrow. There was some of the arrogance, but it was long since tempered with experience and honed with one of the harshest military disciplines in the world to a sharpened steel edge of top quality sword.

Only reason, age and the sorrow served as his sheath. That and his friends to hold him back.

For a moment Sir Alistair mourned the loss of his friend from long ago because the man that was before him now was a warrior, not the traveler he had been. That much was clear.

"DiNozzo!" called the Doctor.

A younger man, one from NCIS, practically was in the board room almost by reflex by his call. "Yeah, boss?"

The relief on Tony's face was easily seen. He'd heard how the Doctor tended to just vanish for years on end, only to turn back up with either another face or without aging a day. To see Gibbs, or the Doctor, going over case files like nothing had happened in the last twenty four hours made him breathe a whole lot easier. If Gibbs left, he was Team Lead. It's not that he couldn't do it - he had done so before, and done quite well - but he didn't want to have to hold the team together if Gibbs was taken from them while out of country. Especially not under these circumstances. It wasn't something he wanted to really have to explain to Vance although he was quite sure Torchwood and UNIT would do most of the explaining for him.

"Go ask Abby for the results on that trace liquid found at the newest scene. She should have something by now."

"Okay."

Tony left to do as asked, not even saying anything although the grin on his face was wide enough that when McGee and Ziva saw it, they immediately perked up. "I take it Gibbs is still... Gibbs?" asked Ziva.

"So far so good on that," said DiNozzo as he gave them a double thumbs up. "Still the same old, same old. I haven't seen any coffee yet, but other than that he's still our boss."

He walked past them and to where Abby had a lab set up. She looked up at Tony's smiling face and she brightened perceptively. "Hey Tony, what's up?"

"Gibbs said you'd likely have something for him now and sent me to find out what."

Her eyebrows rose. "He did, did he? Same Gibbs. No matter what."

She took great pleasure in that. It wasn't as if she didn't want to go with him but she still had her life at NCIS. Her friends. The bowling nuns. If he left, she'd likely go with him. Maybe. But it looked like she wouldn't have to make that decision after all. "As a matter of fact he's right. The equipment here is top notch and able to identify stuff I can't back in DC. Anyway, here's the report, fresh off the printer. The substance isn't from Earth. Surprise, surprise, considering where we are what we're looking into. But, the equipment tells me that it's from... uh... I can't even begin to pronounce this. Anyway, take it up to Gibbs. Maybe he'll know what to make of it. Better yet, I'll come with you. I can't wait to go back to DC. Did you know there's no caf-pow here?"

DiNozzo listened to her chatter as she took his arm and reversed him out of the lab and back into the main part of the hub. For the first time she noticed the UNIT soldiers everywhere. "That's why he couldn't come himself. He's been kept busy by someone named Brigadier Bambera and Sir Alistair. Only Ducky has been in and out of the constant conference."

They looked up to the glassed in boardroom where the blinds were drawn. DiNozzo picked up on the nervous energy in the UNIT soldiers. It was like the room was holding its breath. "Tony?" asked Abby, uncertain.

"C'mon Abby, Gibbs wanted that result, let's not disappoint him," answered DiNozzo as he led her up the stairs to the conference room.

With a nod they let them into the room where the there were even more high-ranking officials in the room. Ducky was near the door, to the back. Gibbs was at the table, beside another older looking gentleman. Others were taking up the remaining seats and they were poring over other files. Gibbs was wearing his glasses, seemingly unconcerned and for once strangely in the lead of the discussion. Abby and Tony looked at Ducky, who was only smiling a little in amusement. He leaned over. "The Doctor always did lead UNIT and the government in these matters. They always looked to his experience. When he vanished eleven months ago, it was like there was a bit of a vacuum. Sir Alistair and Jack kept it as quiet as they could, but soon there was aliens... and not nice ones... testing the waters so to speak. Evidently about two weeks ago they figured out that the ultra-advanced defender was gone and started to invade. This is what this is about. It has been the entire time," whispered Ducky, explaining what the conference was about. "Now he's back and, as usual, they want him to sort it out."


	9. Chapter Seven

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Tony, Abby and Ducky felt like the odd wheels out standing in that conference room. For a long moment Abby fidgeted and then she walked behind the Doctor and slipped the file down in front of him. He looked up and she grinned. "Doctor, the entire problem remains that we still don't know where they came from," said one high ranking official.

In truth, Abby wasn't sure of his rank or his relative job description. Might it have been US, she may have had a better idea, but as it was, she wasn't one hundred percent sure with the British system to guess. The Doctor flipped open the file, read the results, his eyebrows lifting and then he looked at Abby with a look that clearly asked if she was sure. She nodded and he turned to them. "Actually, we do. Ms. Scuito... allow me to introduce the Forensics expert from NCIS. They were flown in from the US to help with the US Navy personnel. Their jurisdiction, after all."

Abby and Tony froze at the use of pronouns. It wasn't 'our' or 'us'. Them and their. He was no longer taking ownership of his own team. Tony felt the familiar crushing weight of team lead hit him full on with that knowledge. "As I was saying." The Doctor didn't seem to notice what his, perhaps inadvertent, slip of the tongue had done to his team from NCIS. "Ms. Scuito has actually identified the substance found at the latest crime scene. She may have not known what to make of it but she did identify what I needed to know to identify it. They're the Sycorax. Although, I admit they're the most subtle I've ever seen them act."

"You've encountered them before?" asked Ducky.

The Doctor looked over and nodded. "Oh yes. Remember around five years ago? The invasion on Christmas Day when one third of the world was made to stand anywhere high enough where if they jumped they would have killed themselves? The big ship in the sky that looked more like a chunk of rock?"

There were collective groans around the room. "Again?" asked Mickey. "As I remember it, it was when you were fresh into... what regeneration was that?"

"My tenth incarnation." The Doctor smiled wistfully, and he caught the look of askance from Alistair. "This is my twelfth. Anyway. It looks like I have to remind them of something I said before, doesn't it?"

Tony walked back to McGee and Ziva, a bit heavy hearted. They caught the look and McGee asked, "What happened?"

Tony shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it and quite frankly, although he would have engaged in the rumour fest before when it concerned Gibbs, he knew now that Gibbs was lost. For all intents and purposes, he may was well be dead. Another man that looked like Gibbs, sounded like Gibbs, but was definitely not Gibbs had replaced him. He looked at them and said, "All right, let's focus on wrapping up the case. It looks like we could be done here very soon and on our way back home."

Ziva opened her mouth to say something, recognizing the change in Tony. It was the same when Gibbs had retired to Mexico after being blown up and spending nearly a week in coma. "He's not coming back with us, is he?" asked McGee quietly.

With a pause, Tony looked up and then shook his head.

* * *

Abby also spent the rest of the day in her lab. She didn't come out but threw herself into her work, although she didn't play her music. It seemed somehow wrong to do so. She heard quiet steps and turned to see Gibbs. No. He wasn't Gibbs anymore. That much was painfully obvious. Abby turned back to her computer. "Yeah?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor sat beside her, quietly, on a stool . He didn't say anything but then again he knew nothing needed to be said. He had sensed the change in his people from NCIS. Somehow, they knew he had changed so much that he wasn't the same as he had been before and it was slowly breaking them. She finally turned to look at the man that looked just like Gibbs, and except for the strange, faint accent, sounded like him too. But it took looking into his eyes to see that he wasn't and never would be their Gibbs again. "You're not coming back with us to NCIS, are you?" she asked.

"I never said that," he answered.

"Really? Because what you said in the conference room clearly said otherwise."

For a long moment he looked confused and then it dawned on him. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. That about sums it up. You don't even see us as your team anymore."

"Abby, that's not what it sounded like at all. Those men up there... they don't know about Gibbs and where I've been for thirty years. To them, I've been gone maybe eleven months. If I had referred to NCIS as my team it would have raised too many questions that we don't have time to explain."

Abby narrowed her eyes. "So, are we still your team?"

"Always. Even if I'm not there, I'm there for you all. I never forget friends... family..." he corrected himself. "You're more family than friends. Another friend, a companion, told me that for a lonely man I've got the biggest family on Earth. And she was right. Granted, you're not Gallifreyan like me, but you've got bigger hearts than my two put together."

At this he smiled, the slight smile she was so familiar with. She pouted and looked at him. "You mean that?"

"Cross both my hearts."

* * *

McGee wasn't wasting any time. Even if their part in the case was wrapped up he wanted to know who and what their former team lead had turned into. So did Tony and Ziva. Which was why he had found a quiet spot away from prying eyes and was running normal, public, searches on the internet on the blue police box and the Doctor. He was good enough to know how to cover his tracks. He had gathered quite a bit. He would show Tony and Ziva that public stuff, which was supposition, rumour and mostly contradictory later. Some of it he knew to be true from his own personal observations.

The blue police box was not as it appeared. Fact. The blue police box was his ship. Also fact. Bigger on the inside? Well, it stood to reason. He had personally observed Jack, Martha, Ducky and Gibbs disappear inside and not come out for nearly one hour when they had half carried Gibbs within to sleep. How he could have slept within something that couldn't be bigger than four feet by four feet on the inside was beyond him.

It was the different faces that threw him, although, he had also seen the video of the previous Doctor when he had gone missing. And one stood out as being very Gibbs like. This one had close militaristic cropped hair and a plain leather jacket. He was the least showy of them all, besides Gibbs now, that was. The others were more outright alien to absent minded professor to young business, modern business man. The body type usually was generally the same, although it varied somewhat as well.

All public stuff and the stuff of conspiracy theorists. All crap.

With a sigh, he looked around and then started to look into records not so public. He was certain UNIT and Torchwood would have files on the man and it was these he started on. UNIT was easier as it was a publicly known organization, which made finding it easier. He slid underneath the defenses as easily as he did the CIA, but was more careful about it. He took his time to make sure he didn't slip up, but also didn't waste it. He had to be in and out, with what he needed, before anyone noticed the intrusion.

What he found in UNIT on the Doctor threw alot of the crap out the window, but made alot of it make sense. Medical records from Dr. Harry Sullivan. Pictures. Honorary, but official, ranking within their organization. List of companions. List of his incarnations as they had personally observed while he worked for them, as well as others from tangential contact.

McGee pulled what he needed and then got out as cleanly, perhaps more so, that he had gotten in.

With an unfocused gaze he thought for a moment. Granted, given that the Doctor was alien and the US government would love to get their hands on him, there was no reason he couldn't continue to keep at least some contact with NCIS. After all, like in UNIT, he had a real identity and a ranking within their organization.

It was the man's true age, as far as UNIT knew, that threw McGee. According to them, and what they had been told, in the man's fifth incarnation while he was still closely linked to UNIT, he had turned one thousand years old by Earth reckoning, which was also quite close to his own home planet's reckoning. A planet named Gallifrey, a race called the Gallifreyan, although he was called colloquially as a Time Lord. According to the Doctor, as well as other Gallifreyans, what few they had met, the Time Lords were a race that had existed with a real civilization far advanced long before humanity was born. They were a race that could sense Time itself, control it, and travel it as easily as a human drove a car. The sheer weight of that hit McGee and he found himself breathless.

He took a short break, making sure that what he found was printed out but also hidden and locked away. And then he made sure the printer servers were wiped clean. He had the man's real medical records and it wouldn't do to let anyone get a hold of that. McGee, although the Doctor wasn't Gibbs so much anymore, still felt protective of the man. Doctor or not, the man had taught them all their very careers and saved them all. Taken personal injury for McGee once even. It wasn't something someone forgot easily.

And from what he seen, that selflessness was in his very nature. McGee was not going to let the man fall into harm's way if he could help it.

Refreshed he then sat back down and hacked into Torchwood. He read up on the Canary Wharf incident, as well as the official byline of Torchwood, both the old and the new and the reasoning behind it. He got a good chuckle on that. But, of all ironies, it was UNIT that held the major wealth of real knowledge. All Torchwood had was less than the public had of the Doctor. But at least he knew what Torchwood really thought of him. He backed out of that as well, seeing what he needed to see, and wiped any traces of him being there.

With the knowledge in hand, he went to find the others from NCIS to show them what he'd found.

* * *

Tony, Ziva and Abby sat in their hotel room with McGee. Both Tim and Abby had thoroughly swept the room while Tony and Ziva searched for other bugs. Once satisfied they sat down and Tim brought out the thick file. "Okay, Tony, you're right. He's likely not coming back to NCIS. But, once I show you this, we're in agreement that he really, really should not."

There was a few glances of confusion, but Tony nodded. "Okay. He's an alien. I can see one reason why he shouldn't go near the military."

"That would be the biggest reason," said Abby.

"However, he probably won't listen to that kind of reason," pointed out McGee. "The Doctor is a man that does his own thing most of the time. Even his own people considered him semi-renegade. He was exiled to Earth once, and there he served UNIT because, really, without the ability to travel he was stuck here with no resources, no way to live. Normally, from what I understand he more or less lives on his ship, which is called the TARDIS. I won't get into real long details, as it's all in these, but he's simply freaking amazing. But, as much as he isn't Gibbs he strangely is at the same time, and always kind of was."

They looked at each other. "So Gibbs is not lost?" asked Ziva.

"Hardly - he's still the Doctor, the Doctor is still Gibbs. The human Gibbs is dead, yes, but Gibbs isn't. It's just not his real name but another human name he can now use to hide on Earth among us," explained McGee. "If that made sense.

"Are his people still looking for him?" asked Ziva, suddenly almost gauging what it would take to fight an alien threat to another alien friend.

For a long moment McGee was silent. "No. They're not. He was recalled for a war in his eighth incarnation. It was a big war. Our scale would be almost, if it happened and I hope it never does, World War Three. They called it the Last Great Time War between his people, who the rest of the universe refers to as Time Lords, their allies that could sense time, and the Daleks and their allies." He took a breath, showing the two pictures of the eighth, which was a fuzzy one taken by traffic cameras and another of the ninth taken by actual cameras, which showed him entering by military (mostly UNIT) escort into a government building in the UK. "Both sides were destroyed. By destroyed I mean he's the last of his kind. There are no other Time Lords left alive. Their home world was razed, and destroyed utterly, but so was the other side. He was found, in the ninth, staggering from a smoking TARDIS, staggering in Totter's Lane, only able to say, 'They're gone. All of them,' before he collapsed and slept for nearly thirty-six hours, at which point he disappeared again until he showed up for that." McGee pointed out the picture of him entering the government building again. "And then again, looking like this." He took out another picture of a skinny man in a pinstripe suit. "He wasn't seen again, in modern times anyway, until now and this, according to what he's told Ducky is his twelfth incarnation. Want another heart attack? He celebrated his one thousandth birthday, according to UNIT records, in his fifth incarnation, but he's been telling people he's only 900 or so since the ninth. Given how much he's done, I'd say he's far older than either of those numbers."

McGee took a breath, and he let the others read the files. Abby was fidgeting and then she said, "That's what he meant by he's had others travel with him."

"What was that?" asked McGee.

"He asked me, if he left, if I wanted to come with him for awhile. See what was out there. Well, not in those words. But you know Gibbs. Have to read between the lines. I think he'd be lonely out there and I said I'd miss him and so he said I could always come with him, if I wanted to," she said, then she took a breath. "I was hoping he'd stay because I really, really don't want to have to make that decision. I want to stay at NCIS. I have a life there. But what he asks is once in a lifetime. Like ever. Not to mention the coolest. Don't worry though, I still haven't made up my mind."

"Some don't come back," mentioned McGee quietly.

"I know, he warned me."

There was silence as they all thought about what she'd just said. "He's already falling into old patterns. For him," mused Ziva. "Different Doctor, but still the same. Gibbs, but not."

Tony was still quiet, as he was reading everything and committing it to memory. What he saw both alarmed and relieved him. He was a good man, alien or not. He lived so long that Tony could only wonder at what it would be like. "He stays he takes a huge risk that the next time he's injured, he'll be caught out and no one will ever see him again," he said aloud. "But, he could always go to Ducky. He usually did anyway. Maybe it was subconscious. Gibbs hated hospitals. He leaves and we may never see him again in this lifetime but he lives his life as he's always lived it. Even if he stays he lives and watches us all wither and die through age, and then he leaves. Not much of a choice. I can see why he chose to forget."

There was silence around the table as they thought for a long moment, and then Tony sighed and stood up. "All right, if he's not coming back we have to come up with a real reason of why. What are we going to tell Director Vance?"

"Will we have to?" asked Ziva. "After all, he could simply say he was offered a position with Torchwood or UNIT, and it would not be a lie. And then he could simply go on his way with no explanation required. As usual... for the Doctor. We would simply have to support what he says to Director Vance."

Tony thought for a minute. That was a valid point. "All right, I agree. We'll go with what he decides to do. Abby, if you go with him I suppose we'll have to explain it the same way."

"If I do. I don't know yet," she answered.

"Well, come on, we get to stop an alien invasion. Doctor or Gibbs, we're still his team. We've got his six like we've always had," said Tony as he led them out the door.

McGee hid the files again, running them through the shredder. He also wiped his computer of all traces, using a military grade sweep. Now that they had all seen them and had a chance to go over them, they didn't need to be seen. When he had a chance, he soaked the bag containing the shreds in the canal by the dock entrance of Torchwood to turn the paper into pulp before squishing it into a ball to throw out. He ignored the puzzled look on Ianto's face as he entered.

There isn't near as many UNIT around, and it's with a sudden cold shock that he realizes _he's_ not there either. Neither is Jack, Martha, Mickey or that Alonso fellow. Just Gwen and Ianto and now the team from NCIS, plus a few (very few) UNIT, and they appear to be packing up and leaving.

Tony and Abby stood where the TARDIS had formally been. McGee runs down to them. "Where is he?"

"He had to take care of this," answered Ducky as he walked down from the boardroom. "He would have called you all in - by the way he wasn't very happy by your disappearance. He said he could have used you to watch his six, but Jack said he'd make sure they could while you did your jobs of wrapping up the US Navy part of this. I am sincerely hoping that is what you were all doing."

Tony nodded, "Yeah, in a manner of speaking."

Abby asked, "He's coming back, though, right?"

For the longest time Ducky didn't answer. "I honestly don't know. He should be. He'd have to bring back the team from Torchwood and Sir Alistair, I'd imagine."


	10. Chapter Eight

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

The Doctor stood on the ship and was immediately taken back easily almost fifty of his years to the last time he had faced the Sycorax. They were as ugly as he remembered them to be. Behind him, and within easy retreating distance was Sir Alistair and the team from Torchwood. He sincerely regretted leaving the NCIS team behind. He could only imagine what they would have thought. Sure, it wasn't the greatest introduction to life on other planets. Actually, if he remembered Rose and Prime Minister Harriet Jones' reaction, it had been terrifying. But, he still felt a twinge at having to leave them behind.

"Who speaks for the Sycoraxi?" he shouted.

One came forward and demanded, it being naturally translated. He remembered how they wouldn't speak any Earth languages, only their own tongue. "I do. Who are you?"

"I'm the same champion from..." Blast... oh right... "Six Earth years ago."

Time travel. Had to love it, or hate it. It may have been almost fifty to him but it had only been six or seven to the rest of them. "You are not the same champion. You look only marginally like him, although we can tell you are of the same species, possess the same blue box."

"I'm him. Different face, same man. Now, didn't I fight your champion for this planet? Didn't I say, as a price for losing and for the dishonour of trying to strike me down with my back turned - shame on you really - after your champion had made an oath on the blood of his very ancestors that he'd leave... that to leave and never come back? Oh yes, I believe my exact words were that it would be for all of time itself that you and your people were forbidden, and that this planet was defended," growled back the Doctor, just as forcibly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mickey's eyes widen. _Well, if he didn't believe me before, I'm sure he does now_, mused the Doctor. The Sycorax snarled, but didn't say anything. "And you think you can stop us?" asked the Sycorax.

"I'm not the only line of defense here, as you should well know."

Much as he hated the mere thought of it, considering the actions of its use before, it would be a suitable deterrent now. He hoped. Not that he wanted it to come to that. He was getting tired of having to resort to destruction to make a point. The Sycorax appeared to think about this. "And what are you doing here now, then? Buying time or bluffing?"

"Neither. Giving a fair warning. Back off now or we'll use it again."

"Why should we? We are here and if your humans hold to form, if they even have the technology still, they will use it when we go to leave anyway."

With a sigh, the Doctor remembered that part of the solution. The part he wasn't very keen on and hadn't been in the first place. "Do your damn research. The leader that made that decision is no longer in power. You know that. This time, as I thought it would have been before. You leave you can leave. Just don't come back or I'll let them use it instead of giving you fair warning."

With a dark smile, the Sycorax snapped his fingers and two familiar forms came forward, forced to by two other Sycorax. The Doctor felt his hearts plummet through his shoes and through the floor. Probably clear back to the Earth.

Amy and Rory.

"We found these two nosing around. You sent them to spy on us!" shouted the Sycorax leader.

With a sigh, he answered, "I did not. And what have you done? You came slinking back, thinking no one had noticed. Well, here I am and I certainly tell you I definitely noticed. Now, as I was saying... only now you can add let them go or else."

That gave them pause. "Who are you that we would listen to you and that the Earth does as well?"

"I'm the Doctor. The Last of the Time Lords. The Daleks called me the Oncoming Storm, and I'm the only survivor of the Last Great Time War because, with my own hand, I ended it all."

Both Amy and Rory looked at each other, the hope rising in their face even as, and this much he could see, that they couldn't reconcile his current incarnation's appearance and attitude to the one they had known. Regeneration could be a bitch in that way. He found himself suddenly regretting his decision to run even though it had done some good.

There was a sudden murmur in the Sycoraxi. Oh, they had heard of them as well. At least the last part of it. He let his voice raise. "I could tell you that you're in violation of the Shadow Proclamation, which by their laws that even you are subject to, that it is forbidden to interfere with the development of a technological level five planet and its surrounding system. You are to only observe, not interfere or make contact. This is twice that you have and twice that I've had to stop you. What is it to be? Either death by the humans or trial by the Shadow Proclamation."

"What of you?" asked the deflated Sycoraxi.

"I'm Earth's Champion. It's lonely angel. Earth is my home now that Gallifrey has fallen. But then again, you could say it always was since before then because, if you look back, how many others came before you and who stopped them?" he smiled, coldly. "Run."

Unlike usual, this time it didn't go like it usually did. He supposed, in retrospect, he should have expected that. At least they released Amy and Rory first before the fire fight broke out with him squarely in the middle. They ducked and he tried to find cover, pulling what had been Gibbs side arm out as someone landed on him to push him out of the way of a stray laser shot.

He saw, with much relief, that Amy and Rory had managed to get back to the TARDIS and the TARDIS and allowed them inside. Sir Alistair was using the doors as cover, while Jack lay dead and face down, having been the first casualty when he had pulled the Doctor down behind cover. Martha was there, checking on both of them while Mickey, Alonso and Sir Alistair laid down covering fire.

With a roar of rage, the leader of the Sycorax lifted the Doctor from his hiding spot, pulling out his belt knife. "We may die but your blood will satisfy the Gods and assuage their thirst for vengeance."

He was mid thrust when fire from Sir Alistair made the strike go wild. Instead of stabbing him in the gut he went wide, glancing off a rib and slicing open his side and part of his arm. Black spot threatened to swamp him, but he managed to hang on to consciousness. The Sycoraxi leader screamed as more fire from Martha and a revived Jack shot him dead. Another Sycorax used the electrical whip to wrap painfully around his ankle as he tried to run back the TARDIS and he was dragged back, while the others tried to get him back. This time he was more than ready, his Marine trained reflexes already curling around the Sig issued to NCIS agents. One went to stab him, but found a bullet between the eyes for his trouble. The Doctor found part of him recoiling from using the gun, but this incarnation had always been Gibbs from the start.

The blows on his already injured body was beyond what he could handle, and he dimly heard more gunfire - some of it his, although mostly wild shots from pain, and he thought he might have hit one more but not lethally - although one Sycoraxi got one more stab deep in his thigh. Someone lifted him and he felt himself be carried back into the TARDIS. The hum of the ship entered his mind. The TARDIS was panicked, and Jack trying to pilot her wasn't helping her. The Doctor opened his eyes long enough to manage to push himself up.

Martha was right there, as was Rory. Oh yes. He had forgotten that small little detail. Martha was a medical doctor and Rory was a nurse. He was now outnumbered by a medical team. Especially once he got them back to the hub and Ducky joined them. "Doctor, you're in no condition to pilot the TARDIS."

"I'm not... not by myself anyway. Jack is, with Amy's help and my guidance. I promise I'll sit in the pilot's seat quietly and let you fuss over me once we're off this ship," he answered as he limped over to said pilot's seat, lowering himself into the padded seat with a relieved sigh.

He'd only closed his eyes a minute. So he thought.

* * *

When the Doctor had managed to limp his way back to the pilot's seat, to, as he had said, help Jack and Amy, everyone had been concerned. Martha and Rory helped him move. Neither were really all that surprise when he lowered himself into the seat and promptly passed out. Martha checked his hearts, and other than they were beating a bit quickly, but slowing to a resting rate, he was fine. He was also breathing unimpeded and deeply.

She was a bit surprised to note that the other man, the one that had been a prisoner on the Sycoraxi ship, had just as much medical ability as she did. "Dr. Martha Jones," she introduced herself.

"Rory Williams, I'm just a nurse," he answered.

"Never say that. You're not 'just' a nurse," she retorted. "A doctor is only as good as their nursing staff."

There was a shy, but appreciative, smile from Rory. Not to mention the largest grin from the red-headed woman that had been with Rory. "I'm Amy... Rory's wife."

"Nice to meet you Amy," said Jack. "How is he?"

"He has some very deep cuts, bruising and I'm concerned about the stab wound in his thigh. I think he passed out from blood loss and shock," she answered. "We should move him to the infirmary as soon as I stop the bleeding or he'll bleed worse from being moved."

"All right, Amy, he said you had some piloting skills. Let's get us back to the hub," said Jack.

With a nod, Amy walked over the the console and helped Jack figure it out.

When the noise of the TARDIS materializing filled the the hub, everyone from NCIS stared at the sudden windstorm it caused as it blinked back into existence. When the sound and the windstorm died down, and the doors opened, Abby and Ducky were the first ones there. When they saw a bloodied Jack, Abby felt her panic rise. "What happened?"

Jack pushed past her, but wasn't rough about it. He ran up to the computers and hit a few buttons. "Torchwood Three is requesting permission to use the Thunderhammer. Authorization Harkness Beta Four Seven Two Eight. On my mark, mark."

The lights dimmed in the hub to the point that the only light cast was from the TARDIS and the computers, then they came back up. Moments later there was a loud crash as something large hit the water of the bay. With a sigh, Jack sat down and ran a hand over his face. "That was something I was hoping to never see used ever again."

"What happened?" asked Abby again.

"The Doctor tried to talk the Sycorax into backing off. Tried everything. In the end... it didn't work. There was a firefight on their ship. Something about his blood being the only thing to appease the blood of their ancestors. We managed to barely drag him out of there," answered Jack. "As usual, he nearly dies defending the Earth and no one will know."

The five from NCIS took this in silently. It summed up Gibbs as well. "Semper Fi," murmured Tony, then he picked up on the rest of it. "Wait... he was hurt again, wasn't he?"

Jack nodded, but then made a placating gesture with his hands. "He's fine, he's fine. Dr. Jones and a nurse by the name of Rory... which he managed to save up there... are taking care of him. If you want to see him, I'm sure the TARDIS will let you all on..."

For a moment they looked at the blue box, as if not quiet believing that they would all fit on there. But, so far, no one else had come out. It was Ziva who strode to the double doors and opened them to look inside. Through the open doors they all could see within and they were all blown away by it. Ziva walked inside first, taking slow steps as she looked around the room that would have rivaled the bull pen back at NCIS in size. Abby followed close behind, who was then followed by Ducky, who smiled as he saw the familiar warping of space within. It looked different again, but it was still familiar.

Tony and McGee were last, and Jack closed the door behind them. "No way," said McGee as he turned around in a full circle. "It's... it's bigger on the inside."

"The infirmary is down the hall through those doors," said Jack, as he led them deeper into the ship. "I know it's all strange and stuff, but you want to see your friend first before you get the grand tour. She likes you. She normally would make you use a key to get back in her but she let Ziva open the doors without one."

"She?" asked Abby.

"The TARDIS is alive," explained Jack as he led them through the ship. "Grown, not built. With a heart, mind and soul of her own. She is psychically linked to the Doctor. Part of how the ship is piloted is used that way, the other is through... well I'm not even sure. I'm sure I don't have any part of the equation and she simply takes me where I need her to go and then only when he's on board."

Finally they reached the infirmary where the Doctor was sleeping on a bed as Rory took his vitals. When Abby touched his foot, he woke and he groaned a bit. "Oh, I'm on the flat of my back again. I've been spending a lot of time on it, it seems."

"Don't be so danger prone," chided Ducky as he took a turn to check him over.

"It is over?" asked Abby.

"I'm not sure..."

"It is," answered Jack. "Unfortunately, in the same manner as the last time with them. Hopefully they get the clue but I get the feeling that it won't. It's a good thing we have you back, Doc."

There was no answer from the Doctor, but he was awake. He lay there staring at the ceiling, an unreadable expression on his face. "You are back, right?" asked Martha.

Finally, the Doctor took a deep steadying breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

* * *

**A/N**: Could not resist my favourite monster/alien from DW making an appearance. The Sycorax are seriously bad-ass. They remind me of the Klingons from Star Trek, only they are uglier.


	11. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

The sound of a materializing TARDIS filled the basement of the quiet house in Washington DC. Six people stepped outside, and the silver haired one turned to lock it as he did so. With a wistful glance around the basement, the Doctor looked around what had been his haven and where he had built boats for years before finally setting the hobby aside for other wood-working pursuits.

The other five, his team from NCIS plus Ducky and Abby looked around, then looked back at the blue police box that now sat in a corner of Gibbs' basement.

"So, we're back in DC," said Tony. "That was the quickest flight I've ever had, if bumpy."

"She can be," answered the Doctor. "So, UNIT will have explained your sudden appearance back in DC as the fact that they used a classified method of transport to bring you back in payment of your invaluable help in closing a very difficult case. The Navy personnel that were injured in the initial Sycoraxi attack will be returned to their respective ships. Unfortunately, I can't bring back the dead."

"What about you?" asked Ducky.

For a long moment the Doctor was silent. "I... I don't know," he answered honestly, then he turned to Abby, as if he was asking the same thing.

For a long moment she thought about it, then she tilted her head. "I suppose, given that it can travel in time I could take some long overdue vacation time and we could travel to our hearts content and you could bring me back all within that vacation time."

"Absolutely," answered the Doctor.

Abby thought about it some more, then she nodded. "Yeah, okay. If you go, I could come with you. For awhile. Not forever, of course... I'd still want to come back and see what they're up to but I'd love to see what's out there."

He looked at the others. "What of you?"

They all looked at each other and it was McGee who found his voice first. "Are you serious? All of us?"

"Just one or two trips," said the Doctor. "See what it's all about. See something you wouldn't get the opportunity to otherwise."

Tony was already inside, almost bouncing in excitement. McGee was right behind him before the Doctor could say anything else. More dignified, Ziva walked past, giving the Doctor a chaste kiss on the cheek in thanks, and then Abby ran in, not even thinking about it anymore. The Doctor looked at Ducky. "You never did come see what I do off of Earth."

"Should I still?" asked Ducky.

"Why not?"

"Why not indeed, my old friend," answered Ducky, with a smile as he followed the Doctor within.

They watched the younger ones as they chased each other around the console, the normal antics that usually took place in the bull pen now taking place in the console room. The Doctor smiled again, still the small, almost secret ones that Gibbs was well known for. One trip. And then he'd bring them home.

If they only knew how many times he'd made that promise for it to be thrown out the proverbial window.

~ **THE END?** ~

* * *

**A/N**: I would like to thank ErinM once again for allowing me to expand on her plot bunny. I would also like to remind everyone that I do not own the rights to any of the characters of Torchwood, NCIS, or Doctor Who.

I had a thought, how cool would it be if this was a two-parter or a special to introduce a new season of Doctor Who.

Then again, I would live if Mark Harmon became the Twelfth Doctor.

And, in the spirit of ErinM's generosity... if anyone wants to write a continuation or create a fan-series based on this start, go nuts. Just let either one of us know where we can find it, even if it's here.

**EDIT**: I did see last night's episode of NCIS and I am currently putting my head to keyboard, although, if you want to, this could be an alternative episode to replace it. My husband who helped me pick out some of my mistakes watched it and laughed hysterically at the fact that I would finish this and NCIS would have a lieutenant found dead on a British Navy boat in the UK... go figure...


End file.
